And I Must Scream
by Lady Azura
Summary: A dark secret sparks friendship between two unlikely people.  TRIGGER WARNING!
1. Violate Me

Summary: _A dark secret sparks friendship between two unlikely people. _

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. Or the _Breakfast Club_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: I've had this idea in my head for quite a while, but I wasn't going to start writing it until after I'd finished _**Broken Glass**_. After seeing the season 11 preview, though… I decided to get a head start.

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Violate Me**_

X

_"Naked blonde walks into a bar with a poodle under one arm, and a two-foot salami under the other. The bartender says, 'I guess you won't be needing a drink.' Naked lady says __—__ OH, __**SHIT**__!"_

Bianca DeSousa tore her lips away from her boyfriend's for a split second to glance over at the TV.

They had put in the _Breakfast Club_ about an hour ago, but had long since lost interest once Drew's lips sought hers out in the Torres' dimly-lit living room, not even fifteen minutes into it. She let out a short laugh and turned back to face Drew, running her manicured nails through his spiked hair while her free hand stroked his chest through his shirt. As it slid lower, lingering dangerously close to his belt buckle, she watched his adam's apple bob in anticipation.

She smirked, leaning in so that her lips ghosted over his ear. "Don't get too excited, Torres. I haven't even started yet."

Just as her fingertips grazed his zipper, however, Bianca heard someone clear their throat.

"Ahem."

She sprung away from Drew, ending up on the opposite end of the couch while Drew grabbed the nearest pillow and held it on his lap to cover his… problem. Peering up, they found Mrs. Torres looming over them, her arms crossed and lips pursed, looking none too pleased. Disapproval was etched across her face, but she didn't launch into a lecture as they had expected.

"Bianca," she said tightly, no longer looking at her own son but rather, focusing her hard gaze on his girlfriend, "it's getting late. I think it's time for you to go home, before your parents start to worry. Tomorrow's a school day."

Bianca wasn't stupid. Mrs. Torres was just trying to get rid of her. Drew had reassured her, when she first met his family (save for his brother, who she already knew and wasn't exactly on good terms with, but they mostly ignored each other for Drew's sake) that it was nothing personal, and that his mother simply didn't approve of _any_ of the girls he'd ever dated.

Forcing a smile of her own, Bianca nodded and got up.

"Yeah, I should probably leave now… it's getting pretty late," she said, grabbing her purse and her sweater. "I'll see you at school." With that, she gave Drew one last kiss on the lips before darting past Mrs. Torres — who was, no doubt, going to give her son a piece of her mind as soon as Bianca was gone — and out the door.

.

.

.

The Toronto air was crisp that evening.

Bianca shivered as she made her way down the street, rubbing her arms to try to make herself warmer. She wish she'd worn a heavier jacket, or at least brought her car, but the weather had been so nice earlier that day. As luck would have it, though, the temperature just _had_ to drop on the one night she had to walk home. She rolled her eyes, glaring up at the darkening sky, and clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering.

She came to a halt once she reached the intersection, waiting for the light to turn so she could walk. As she stood there, tapping her foot impatiently, she began to glance around. The Dot was just down the road, but they were probably getting ready to close for the night. She looked back at the light, which still hadn't changed, and let out a frustrated growl.

"Fuck it," she muttered, and with that she spun around and made a left.

She'd get home faster taking a short cut.

A few minutes later, Bianca neared a familiar alley and turned right. She didn't usually make it a habit of taking this route, but it was too fucking cold outside and she just really wanted to get home.

As she ventured through the dark alley, a whistle sounded from behind her, followed by a smug, "Hey, sexy!"

Bianca promptly rolled her eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd been whistled at, and it wouldn't be the last. Ignoring the source of the voice, she continued walking. She was used to scumbags hitting on her. Months ago, she would've played along and flirted back, and made them think they had a chance with her — but that was before she had a boyfriend. A _real_ boyfriend.

She could hear a pair of footsteps closing in, and quickened her pace, growing more and more annoyed. She wasn't in the mood deal with some loser in an alley.

"Bitch, I'm talking to you!"

"_What_ did you just call me?"

Against her better judgement, Bianca whipped around and glared venomously at the asshole who had been following her. He bore resemblance to some of the guys she used to chill with at the Ravine, with greasy blond hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in a while, and clothes that reeked. He had to be a couple of years older than her — possibly in his early twenties or so. She couldn't tell if he was homeless of if he'd just rolled out of bed that day and grabbed whatever was off the floor.

She scoffed, about to turn away from him and continue on her way, when the man's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"Hey!" She snarled, trying to pry her wrist out of his grip. "Let go of me, asshole!"

The man's lips curved, his hold tightening. Without warning, Bianca found herself thrown against a brick wall while the man stood before her, licking his lips and eyeing her hungrily.

"H-hey!" Panic rose in her voice when the man grabbed the front of her jacket and unzipped it so fast that she barely had time to react before his hand was up her shirt. She shrieked, struggling to get his hand out. "Stop it! Are you listening to me? I said _stop_!"

When the man didn't stop, Bianca switched tactics. While he was busy groping her, she positioned her knee right between his legs, and brought it up — _hard_.

The man tore his hand away, doubling over in agony. Bianca pushed him away, and tried to make a run for it — she could see a clearing just ahead, and traffic.

Before she could reach the end of the alley, however, the man managed to catch up with her, grabbing the back of her jacket and bringing her to an abrupt halt.

"You little bitch!" He snarled, before his fist collided with the side of her head.

The blow was so hard that it knocked her to the ground. Disoriented, she tried to sit up, but a sudden weight held her down. The man pinned her wrists above her head with one hand while he unfastened his pants with the other. Bianca squirmed relentlessly under him, trying desperately to get him off, but he was heavier than he looked, holding her down effortlessly.

"Stop it! Please!" She begged, as a foreign sensation began to coil around her — fear. She thrashed beneath him and punched his chest over and over again, but it didn't even faze him.

"You're nothing but a slut," the man sneered, tearing her fishnet stockings and forcing her legs apart, "A dirty _whore_ who needs to learn some fucking _respect_." Pushing her underwear to the side, he pressed himself against her and leaned in so that his mouth was next to her ear, "And I'm gonna teach you that respect."

With that, he thrust into her.

A blood-curdling scream rippled from the back of Bianca's throat and echoed throughout the alley as a searing pain engulfed her. Her screams were soon be muffled by her assailant's hand, and tears burned her eyes. Her body grew weaker, and after a few minutes, she stopped fighting altogether. As the man had his way with her, Bianca turned her head to stare out at the cars in the distance, and waited for it to be over.

.

.

.

She didn't know how much time had passed.

It felt like it had been hours.

Her whole body ached as she stumbled into her house, barefoot and out of breath from running. Dropping her heels onto the floor, she made her way through the kitchen. From the corner of her eye, she could see the faint glow of the TV screen in the living room, and her aunt passed out on the couch. Just as she reached the stairs, however, the floorboard squeaked under her weight, and her aunt let out a gasp and shot up.

"Bianca, is that you?"

"… yeah," Bianca answered, trying to keep her voice even. Her throat was still raw from screaming.

"It's almost midnight! Where the hell have you been?" Her aunt snapped. "You better not be drunk again!"

"I was at my boyfriend's," Bianca answered monotonously, staring off to the side. "We fell asleep watching a movie."

She heard her aunt snort — a clear indication that she didn't believe her. Without waiting to be chewed out, Bianca turned on her heel and went upstairs. When she was in the safety of her bedroom, she closed the door and locked it, before pressing her back against it and sinking to the floor.

Drawing her knees to her chest, Bianca hid her tear-streaked face and, while the rest of Toronto turned in for the night, squeezed her eyes shut and wept quietly.

X

**… well? How was it? Good? Bad? So-so?**

** I've never written a rape scene, and I didn't want it to be **_**too**_** graphic because I want to keep this fic at a T rating.**

** Anyway… I hope you guys enjoy so far. I probably won't be able to update this very frequently until I finish "Broken Glass" though. Just a heads up.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and let me know what you think!**


	2. Aftermath

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: So I spent most of last night trying to figure out where I was going with this fic, and I have a few ideas. It's not going to be as long as _**Broken Glass**_… maybe about ten chapters in total. Don't quote me on that though, because it could change. I mean, I'd planned for _**Broken Glass**_ to only be eighteen chapters… and that clearly didn't happen.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Thanks for the reviews, and I hope you enjoy.

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Aftermath**_

X

Bianca spent the majority of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Every time her eyes drooped shut, she panicked, but keeping them open was even worse. Her mind would play tricks on her; she'd start to see figures in the shadows and hear the house creaking, and hope to _God_ that she locked the fucking door because… what if it was _him_? What if _he_ had somehow followed her home? What if he was already there, standing in her room, watching her and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike? The thought made her palms begin to sweat and her stomach lurch, and as her breathing grew more ragged, her heart hammered and she clawed at her bed sheets, clutching them tightly against her chest — as if it would somehow protect her from whoever was lurking in the darkness of her room.

She managed to work herself up to the point of exhaustion, and at around five-thirty in the morning, just as the sky lightened and the birds outside her window began to chirp, Bianca drifted off into a much needed slumber.

Unfortunately, it was short-lived, and not even two hours later, her alarm startled her out of her sleep. Her muscles ached as she dragged herself from her bed to the washroom across the hall. Locking the door behind her, she avoided the mirror and turned on the shower. As the room became foggy, Bianca carefully peeled off her clothes from the day before, throwing her skirt and underwear into the trash — she would burn them when she got the chance, she decided — and stepping into the tub.

Scorching hot water rained down on her, washing away blood and grime and other bodily fluids she didn't _want_ to identify. After washing her hair, she scrubbed her skin until it was raw and burned under the water's touch, but no matter how hard or how much she scrubbed, it didn't make her feel any less dirty and disgusting. She winced when she slid the cloth between her legs. She could still feel him; his brutal thrusts, his hands all over her, groping and touching and — Bianca swallowed the acid building in the back of her throat, and closed her eyes, trying to forget.

She didn't bother with her makeup — save to cover the bruise on the side of her face, from when _he_ had hit her. Drew was already getting enough flack for being with her; the last thing she wanted was for people to start thinking he was abusive. Or worse, for _Drew_ to get worried. Not that he would. Drew didn't care about her — not like that. He was like every guy she'd dated, and the only reason he put up with her was because she was the only girl at Degrassi who would give him the time of day. Their relationship was purely physical. She was hot, he was hot… it worked.

The drive to school was a long one. She must've hit every red light on the way there, but she didn't even have the strength to get mad about it. She was lost in her own thoughts, and when she finally pulled into her parking space behind the school, she simply sat there, staring ahead, still trying to process what had happened to her. It seemed so surreal; as though it had just been a vivid nightmare. But it wasn't. It was real. It had happened. The soreness between her thighs and bruises on her skin were proof of that, and if that wasn't enough, beneath her lavender-scented body wash, _his_ smell still lingered.

_Tap-Tap-Tap_

A sudden, incessant tapping noise jarred Bianca from her stupor, and when she looked up she saw Owen standing beside her window. Cutting off the ignition, she opened the door and stepped out, before locking her car and dropping her keys into her purse.

"What?" She asked impatiently, when he just _stood_ there and stared at her like she'd grown an extra head.

The football player quickly snapped back to reality.

"Wake up on the wrong side of bed, Bee?" He sneered. "You look like shit."

"Gee, thanks," Bianca deadpanned. "You know, this is why you can't get a girlfriend."

Owen's eyes darkened at the low blow. Although he'd never admit it, he was sensitive about not being the macho star athlete that all the girls flocked to — and instead, ran from — and Bianca knew this. He managed to not lose his temper, however, and changed the subject.

"There's a party at the Ravine tonight," he said casually, leaning against the basketball post beside her car. "You coming?"

A couple of months ago, she wouldn't have missed it. But that was before Drew, and before… she shook her head.

"No," she said.

Owen threw her an incredulous glance and then laughed.

"Wow," he said disbelievingly, with a mocking grin. "You've been really stuck up since you started hanging out with Torres. You think you're hot stuff now, don't you?" He sneered. "What, you think that because you're with him that that somehow makes you better than the rest of us? Just remember that when he dumps your ass — and he will — you're five seconds of popularity will be over and you'll go back to being Boiler Room Bianca."

"Fuck you, Owen." Bianca hissed, shoving him so hard that he stumbled backwards.

The bell sounded, and she pushed past him without sparing him another glance, flipping him off for good measure as she made her way into the school.

As she walked to her first class, however, Owen's words echoed in the back of her head, and she knew, deep down — even as much as she wanted to deny it — that he was right.

She was always going to be Boiler Room Bianca.

.

.

.

The day seemed to drag on.

Not that that was particularly unusual, as she often felt anxious sitting in class, counting the minutes before she could leave. Before Simpson's crackdown, she wouldn't have bothered even _going_ to class, and the few times that she _did_, she'd spent the period texting Ron-Ron to keep herself entertained.

But as she sat there, listening to Perrino drone on and on, Bianca found she couldn't sit still. Her hands fidgeted uncontrollably and she could hear her classmates whispering all around her while Perrino had his back turned. Were they talking about _her_? Did they know?

The room began to spin; the walls were closing in and invisible fingers had curled around her neck, strangling her. She needed some air, but asking Perrino for permission to step out for a moment was out of the question. He hated her. She was a delinquent in his eyes — a troublemaker going nowhere fast.

So, folding her arms on her desk and resting her head, Bianca closed her eyes and waited for the day to be over.

X

**Next chapter will be longer than this, I promise.**

** Anyway, despite how short it is, I hope you liked it.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	3. Shatter

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Quick update, mostly because I had most of the chapter drafted. Once again, thanks for the reviews, and I hope you enjoy.

**IMPORTANT**: I added a **Trigger Warning** to the summary. Until a few days ago, I didn't realize that some of my readers might have gone through what Bianca's going through in my fic, and I apologize if it brought about any bad memories.

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Shatter**_

X

At lunch, the cafeteria was crowded with students. Listening to everyone's voices blending together, it sounded more like a beehive than a cafeteria full of hungry teenagers. Clare Edwards sighed as she glanced around in search for a place to eat. Alli was nowhere in sight, but it wasn't long before Clare spotted another familiar face across the room, right next to the open window. She made her way over.

A cool, Spring breeze caressed her skin as she got closer, and as she seated herself comfortably, Adam looked up from his PSP and gave her a wry smile. She smiled weakly in return, setting her tray down in front of her.

"Hey…" She greeted.

"Hey," he replied, reaching across the table to steal one of her fries.

"How's… how's Eli?" She asked uncertainly.

It had been about two weeks since the accident. Eli was out of the hospital and back at school again, and from what Adam had relayed to her, had counselling sessions with Ms. Sauvé every other day during lunch. He'd also been put on some kind of anxiety medication, but that's all she knew. She hadn't even spoken to him since the night of the dance.

"He's… getting better. I think," said Adam, drawing Clare's attention back to him. He stared at his half-eaten burger, before adding softly, "It'd be easier if you just talked to him yourself. I almost miss seeing you guys sucking face."

Clare sighed.

"I _can't_, Adam. It's too soon, and besides… I doubt he even _wants_ to see me." She told him.

Adam rolled his eyes.

"That's what _you_ think," he muttered. "He doesn't hate you, Clare. He loves you, and you love him… so just kiss and make up already."

Clare shot him a pointed look.

"It's not that simple…" She started, but trailed off when Bianca DeSousa caught her eye.

Normally, she wouldn't have paid any heed to the older girl. They ran in different circles, and she'd never spoken to her personally. She knew Bianca had given Adam a hard time earlier that year, and she knew that Alli had been at odds with her for a while — but they seemed to have put that behind them shortly after Alli returned to Degrassi. It wasn't even that Bianca was doing anything to draw attention to herself — she was just sitting at a nearby table, alone, picking away at her food.

She was wearing a heavy sweater, which struck Clare as a little out of the ordinary. It was finally Spring and the weather outside was beautiful. Why would Bianca of all people be wearing a sweater? Especially indoors? Wasn't she boiling? Then again, she could've been the type of person who got cold easily, Clare mused, before her thoughts drifted back to a month ago, when Mark Fitzgerald showed up on her doorstep. She'd seen the bruises on his skin, from where his step-brother had hit him, and it made her wonder… was Bianca also hiding something?

Before she could give it more thought, a hand appeared in front of her face, waving frantically. Clare blinked a few times, and then gave Adam an apologetic smile.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's fine. Didn't mean to bore you." Adam replied, his tone tripping with sarcasm.

Ouch.

"It's not that…" Clare assured him, "It's just… does Bianca seem off to you today?"

Adam peered over his shoulder to look at the girl in question, before turning back to face her.

"I dunno," he said with a shrug. "Why?"

"Don't you talk to her?" Clare asked. "I mean, she's dating your brother…"

Adam grimaced. "We don't talk much. I mean, she stopped calling me 'Tranny' and 'freak' but… we mostly just ignore each other. For Drew's sake." He spared Bianca another glance and then swivelled back around. "She does seem a bit out of it… but she's probably just hungover or something." He clasped his hands together. "Now, let's talk about something else… like Eli, and how you two need to stop being stubborn and…"

Clare sighed, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, and tuned him out.

oOo

Her head was throbbing, and the florescent lights hanging above her were doing nothing to ease it. Bianca closed her eyes, desperately trying to drown out the talking and laughter and obnoxious chewing that surrounded her. She couldn't focus; couldn't single out any one voice or conversation. It was just _noise_, and she just wanted it to fucking _stop_.

Suddenly, without warning, a pair of strong arms looped around her from behind. "Hey, sexy!"

Bianca started with a loud shriek that echoed all throughout the cafeteria as she jumped up from her seat and whipped around — only to come face-to-face with her boyfriend.

Drew quickly got over his own shock and laughed half-heartedly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to freak you out." He said, leaning in for a kiss — but Bianca stopped him, shoving him back hard.

"Don't!" Her voice cracked.

"What?" She could see the confusion in her boyfriend's eyes, and felt bad for rejecting his kiss, but when he reached for her hand, she slapped it away.

She didn't want him near her.

She didn't want _anyone_ near her.

"Don't touch me!" Bianca's whole body shook as she backed away from him. "Just don't fucking touch me!"

Before Drew could say anything else, Bianca pushed past him and made her way out of the cafeteria as quickly as possible, determined to get as far away from him as humanly possible.

As Drew watched his girlfriend leave, he couldn't help but wonder what he'd done wrong.

"Don't worry, man." Dave said, appearing beside him and patting his shoulder. "It's probably just that 'time-of-the-month'."

"Dave!" Sadie chastised, smacking her boyfriend's arm.

"Yeah," Drew croaked, swallowing hard. "Probably."

He followed them back to their lunch table. As Dave launched into a conversation about something he'd heard from Wesley earlier that day, while Sadie listened attentively and laughed from time to time, Drew simply couldn't pay attention. His stomach churned as he thought about his girlfriend.

He had never seen Bianca look so terrified before, and that scared him.

oOo

A strangled cry rippled from the back of Bianca's throat as threw open the door to the washroom, and kicked over a nearby trash bin. She began to hyperventilate, and paced back and forth frantically, tangling her fingers in her thick curls while her mind reeled.

_It was too much_.

Bianca collapsed against the sink. Hanging her head, she gripped the porcelain tightly and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

Slowly, she peered up, and was disgusted with what she saw.

Dead brown eyes rimmed with dark circles and dry lips stared back at her.

She could see the bruise on the side of her head beginning to show through her makeup. She could smell _him_ still on her skin, and feel his rough hands all over her - not at all like Drew, or any of the other guys she'd been with. It hurt. Everything fucking hurt, and she felt so disgusting and dirty and _violated_.

_'Slut.'_ _His_ voice rang in her head, and Bianca squeezed her eyes closed, desperately trying to make it go away.

But it was everywhere — written on the bathroom stalls, at the Ravine, on FaceRange, and in everyone's mind.

_Slut._

_ Slut._

_ Slut._

"SHUT UP!" Bianca screeched, throwing her fist forward.

She ignored the searing pain that shot through her knuckles and up her arm as her reflection cracked and shattered. Cradling her hand, Bianca slid to the floor amidst the broken shards, trying to hold back tears.

Then she heard a small gasp, and when she looked over, she saw Clare Edwards standing in the doorway of the washroom.

"_What_?" She snapped, while the younger girl gaped at the sight in front of her.

"A-are you okay?" Clare stammered.

"I'm fucking dandy," sneered Bianca. "Now get lost."

But the sophomore didn't budge. Instead, she poked her head out the door to make sure that the coast was clear, before walking over. She avoided stepping on pieces of the mirror, and when she finally reached her, she knelt down. Her eyes fell on Bianca's injured hand, her brows knitting together in concern.

"That looks like it hurts." She said softly.

"No shit, Sherlock." Bianca growled.

Clare bit her lip anxiously, glancing around the bathroom. She seemed uncertain about something, but Bianca didn't care. Couldn't _Saint Clare_ see that she just wanted to be left alone?

"I… I saw you run out of the cafeteria…" Clare murmured after a few minutes. "I came to check on you… to see if you were alright…"

Bianca narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Well, I'm fine!" She barked.

Clare flinched, but stood her ground and continued. "If… if you want to talk… I can be a pretty good listener…"

A frustrated noise erupted from Bianca's mouth, and she clenched her fists angrily, her nails digging into the palms of her hands.

"Listen, Edwards," she hissed, "even if there _was_ something wrong with me, why would I ever tell _you_?" She straightened her posture, trying to make herself look more intimidating as she leaned forward and locked eyes with the younger girl. Instinctively, Clare leaned back, and Bianca's lips curled into a sinister smile — but then it fell when Clare mustered what little courage she had and met Bianca's eyes challengingly. Bianca ground her teeth together, and then let out a bitter laugh, turning away from the sophomore. "Even if I did tell you… you wouldn't believe me."

"You don't know that." Clare stated with a frown. "Just try me."

Bianca sighed, tilting her head back and staring up at the ceiling. There was a part of her that wanted to tell someone — anyone. But who would believe her? Who would, for even a second, believe that the school _slut_ had been… besides, even if she came clean about it, it's not like anyone would show her any sympathy. She imagined they would all tell her that she asked for it or _deserved_ it.

… and maybe she did.

Her vision began to blur.

But she'd fought back.

She'd said no.

She hadn't wanted it.

Reaching up, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. Then, swallowing the growing lump in her throat, she peered over at Clare who was watching her intently, waiting for an answer.

It was now or never.

And so she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper:

"I was raped."

X

**… I'm not sure what to think about this chapter. It didn't exactly turn out as I had hoped, but I hope you guys liked it nonetheless.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	4. Hostility

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for the wonderful feedback.

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Hostility**_

X

Clare's heart stopped.

As Bianca's words settled, she was suddenly bombarded with memories — memories she had tried, for almost three years, to forget. But in that moment, everything came flooding back; a tidal wave of images flashing in her mind, and she recalled, in vivid detail, her sister. Her strong, beautiful sister, lying in a hospital bed after slitting her wrists, deathly pale and so, so frail, as though a mere touch would break her. More than anything, however, Clare remembered the empty look in her sister's eyes, like her very soul had been sucked out of her — and as she peered into Bianca's, she recognized the same brokenness.

There was no trace of Degrassi's resident bad girl, because the girl before her was an empty shell of who Bianca had once been.

_Just like Darcy_.

A shuddery breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding escaped her lips. Reaching forward, Clare went to grab Bianca's hand, but the older girl recoiled from her, shaking her head furiously, dark eyes brimming with angry tears that she fought to hold back.

Clare bit her lip, trying to find the right words to say, but drew a blank. She didn't know Bianca. She didn't know how to go about comforting her, and from what she could tell, Bianca didn't _want_ to be comforted.

"W-when?" She managed to ask after a while, shattering the silence that had fallen on them.

Bianca said nothing.

"Does… does anyone else know?" Clare pressed.

"No." Bianca answered, her voice raspy. She pulled her knees to her chest. "Just you."

"What about your parents?"

Bianca let out a bitter laugh. "My family doesn't care about me. They're counting down the days till I move out."

"And… Drew?" Clare asked hesitantly.

Bianca shook her head, her eyes downcast.

"No." She said, before moving to stand up.

Her legs quivered, and she had to use the sink to steady herself. Clare followed suit, rising to her feet as well and adjusting her skirt. She watched Bianca push her hair out of her face and close her eyes. After taking a deep breath, she re-opened them and looked at Clare.

"Do me a favor, Edwards… forget I said anything." She muttered.

Clare furrowed her brow. "What?"

Rather than provide her with an answer, Bianca brushed past her. She was about to exit the washroom when Clare caught her by the sleeve. "Wait a minute! Bianca, you can't just keep this a secret! You… you need to tell someone before -"

"Before _what_?" Bianca snapped, whipping around to pin Clare with a venomous glare. Her entire demeanour had changed within seconds, and Clare had no idea how to react. "Listen," the older teen said coldly, "just forget it, okay? It's my problem and I'll deal with it! I don't need you or anyone else for that matter butting into my life. _Got it_?"

"But this is serious!" Clare protested.

Bianca scoffed, turning away from her once more and making a beeline for the door. Just as she grasped the knob, however, Clare called after her, "If you don't tell someone… I will!"

In an instant, the wind was knocked right out of her as she was slammed up against the wall. A pained cry left her lips as Bianca towered over her, gripping her hair tightly with one hand while the other found her neck. Sharp nails bit into her skin, and Bianca forced Clare to tilt her head back.

"You bitch. If you tell _anyone_ about this," she hissed, while Clare struggled to pry Bianca's fingers from her throat. "I will fucking kill you! You hear me? I will _kill you_!"

Just then, the door flew open.

"What's going on?" Ms. Oh demanded as she entered. Her eyes widened as soon as she spotted the two girls. "Hey! Hey! Stop it, both of you!"

Bianca released Clare immediately, who fell to the floor gasping for breath. Ms. Oh was at her side in a flash, making sure she was alright, before looking back up at Bianca and narrowing her eyes. "Bianca! Office — _now_! You know violence isn't tolerated here!"

The dark-haired girl cast one last warning glare in the sophomore's direction before storming out of the washroom. Clare coughed while Ms. Oh helped her to her feet, asking once again if she was okay. She managed a nod, and thankfully, Ms. Oh didn't press her. As soon as she left — most likely to make sure that Bianca had gone to the office — Clare walked out of the washroom, where she then noticed that a crowd had gathered around. Apparently Bianca had caused quite a commotion. She was about to head to her locker when a familiar voice shouting, "Hey! Move it! Let me through!" grabbed her attention, and she turned just in time to see Adam push past some students.

"Way to ditch me!" He snapped. "You just leave without saying anything? And then I hear from freakin' Marisol that you got into a fight with _Bianca_? What the hell -"

"Sorry," Clare murmured, still shaken up both from Bianca's confession and her threat. Adam went silent, staring worriedly at her. She gave him a reassuring smile before dropping her gaze. "Let's go to class…"

oOo

She had long since cooled off, but that didn't stop Simpson from refusing to hear her side of the story (although, in hindsight, "That little bitch started it!" probably wasn't her best argument) and suspending her for the rest of the day. Needless to say, her aunt wasn't exactly pleased when Simpson called her to inform her of the latest "altercation" that her niece had been in. When Bianca got home, she spent a good half hour being bitched at for being a "rude, self-centered, ungrateful trouble-maker" — among other things.

Not that Bianca cared. She'd heard it all before, countless times.

"You should be thankful that I'm still letting you live under _my_ roof." Lydia hissed.

Bianca rolled her eyes.

Yeah.

Thankful her ass.

"I'm going back to work," her aunt went on, after a moment of silence. She walked past Bianca and grabbed her car keys. "I better not get anymore calls, you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Bianca, as she made her way to her room.

As she closed the door behind her, she heard her aunt say scathingly, under her breath, "… no good tramp. Just like your mom."

She waited until Lydia was gone before throwing herself onto her bed and burying her face in her pillow.

Then she screamed.

oOo

"Clare, honey, can you pass me the mashed potatoes?"

The sound of her mother's voice jarred Clare from her thoughts, but she remained mute as she passed her mother the potatoes she'd asked for before glancing back down at her dinner, which she had barely touched. She heard her mother sigh.

"You've been quiet all day. Did something happen at school?" She inquired.

Clare swallowed. If only she knew…

"That _boy_ didn't upset you, did he?"

Clare knew she meant Eli, and gripped her fork. She regretted telling her mother what had happened between her and Eli, but at the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Still… her mother had never been particularly fond of him, but now she downright _despised_ him, and _that_ Clare didn't like. She knew in her heart that Eli wasn't bad, and that he'd never meant to intentionally hurt her, but her mother didn't know Eli like she did.

"Clare?" Helen's voice softened. "Honey… you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Yes," Clare mumbled, lifting her head to meet her mother's gaze. She faked a smile. "Everything's fine. I'm just tired, that's all."

Helen clearly didn't believe her, and opened her mouth to say so — until the doorbell rang, cutting her off. The two exchanged confused glances with one another, before Clare's chair scraped across the wooden floor as she stood up and made her way over to the door. When she opened it, her eyes went wide.

There, standing on her front porch, was Bianca DeSousa.

"… hey." The other girl greeted weakly.

X

**… I don't like how this turned out. I don't know, there's just something that really bothers me about it. I hope it doesn't seem too half-assed to anyone else, because it does to me. And I know people must be getting tired of hearing me bitch and moan about every chapter, but… it's how I feel.**

** Regardless, I hope you guys enjoyed.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	5. Sleepless

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Aww… only two reviews? Le sigh. What is it with chapter 4 and getting the least amount of feedback? Ah, well, I suppose it's better than nothing, right?

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Sleepless**_

X

Bianca DeSousa was at her house.

_Bianca DeSousa_, of _all_ people, was standing in front of her, and Clare had no idea how to react. She blinked, both shocked and confused — and, if she were to be completely honest with herself, a little scared. She had never seen Bianca outside of school. How did she know where she lived? What did she want? Was she there to finish what she started at school?

Clare shuddered at the thought. She _really_ didn't want to be at the receiving end of Bianca's wrath a second time. But the girl before her hardly resembled _that_ Bianca. She didn't look threatening or like she was out for blood — just defeated. Her hair was tangled and the dark circles under her eyes seemed more prominent than they did earlier that day. The sight made Clare's chest tighten and she pursed her lips, her brows pinching together in concern.

A crack of thunder sounded from behind the older teen, making both girls jump. Peering up, Clare saw that the sky had grown dark.

A storm was brewing.

"Do you want to come in?" The words were out before she could stop them, causing Bianca to look at her in surprise.

Clare mentally berated herself for not thinking first, but moved out of the way to let Bianca in. Bianca hesitated at first, but then nodded and stepped inside while Clare closed the door behind them.

For a few minutes, they stood inside the small foyer awkwardly. Neither knew what to say until at last, Bianca shattered the silence that had fallen on them.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "About earlier."

Bianca was _apologizing_?

Clare gazed wide-eyed at her, trying to process what was happening. She suddenly felt light-headed and leaned back against the wall.

When she noticed that Bianca was staring at her expectantly, she forced a small smile.

"It's fine," she said. "I shouldn't have been so nosy. It wasn't my place to tell you what to do. It's just -"

Before Clare could finish, her mother's voice interrupted.

"Clare, who's at the door?" Helen asked, emerging from the dining room. She came to an abrupt halt when she spotted Bianca. "Oh, hello."

"Hello, Mrs. Edwards." Bianca greeted politely — and Clare could tell she wasn't used to it.

Helen opened her mouth to correct her — to inform her that she wasn't "Mrs. _Edwards_" anymore, but stopped when Clare shot her a pointed look and shook her head.

"Mom, this is Bianca." Clare announced, motioning to the older teen. "My friend."

Bianca glanced at her, clearly stunned.

"Bianca, is it?" Helen said, drawing the other girl's attention to her. She extended her hand. "I'm sorry, I don't think Clare's ever talked about you…"

"We, um… we just started hanging out recently." Bianca answered slowly, with a small grin as she shook Helen's hand.

Clare nodded in agreement.

"Yeah… uh, we're gonna go upstairs now, okay Mom?"

Without waiting for her mother's response, Clare bounded for the stairs with Bianca following closely behind. When they reached her bedroom, Clare sat on he edge of her bed while Bianca took in her unfamiliar surroundings. Clare, in turn, began to glance around, and suddenly became very embarrassed by her girly décor. She found herself cringing at the sight of her pink walls, and the stuffed toys that she hadn't been able to bring herself to put in the basement.

It was weird.

She had never felt this way when Alli and Jenna came over, and neither KC nor Eli had ever been in her room. So why did she care _now_?

Clare's eyes flickered back to Bianca, and she cleared her throat.

"What are you doing here?" She asked softly.

Bianca frowned. "I told you… I wanted to say I was sorry."

"And you couldn't have waited until you got back to school?" Clare pressed.

Bianca's shoulders slumped and she glanced down.

"I need a place to stay for the night." She confessed. "My aunt's pissed at me and I can't be there right now."

"Don't you… have someplace else you could go?"

"Not exactly." Bianca muttered. "All of my friends are guys and I… I don't want to go near a guy anytime soon." She gnawed on her bottom lip, before releasing it and giving Clare a pleading look. "Listen… I know we're not friends and this is a lot to ask, but… just for one night. Please."

There was a hint of desperation in her voice that tugged at Clare's conscience, and she knew that there was no way she could say no.

"Okay," she said, nodding. "You can stay."

Bianca smiled gratefully, grasping her hands and squeezing them tightly.

"_Thank you_."

oOo

Later that evening, the two found themselves sprawled out on opposite ends of the living room couch, watching TV. Or rather, Bianca watched TV, lying on her side, while Clare curled up across from her with her laptop and occasionally tuned in to see what was happening. Earlier, Clare's mom had gone to some church function or fundraiser (Bianca couldn't remember; she hadn't been listening) leaving the whole house to them. Normally, Bianca would have seized the opportunity to throw a party, but not that night.

"Bianca?"

Bianca groaned, lifting her head to glance over at the younger girl. "Yeah?"

Clare closed her laptop and set it on the coffee table before answering.

"How did you know where I lived?"

Her lips twitched, curving upward.

"Fitz told me." She answered honestly.

It had been a pain in the ass trying to get him to tell her, too. She couldn't talk to him the way she used to, not after he went all "Jesus Freak" on her.

"… oh." Clare said flatly.

Bianca sat up, making herself comfortable. "He likes you, you know. I had to give him my last smoke before he told me."

Clare grimaced. "I see."

Bianca sighed, combing her fingers through her hair.

"I know he was a jerk earlier this year, but… he's got issues…" she said, not entirely sure why she was telling Clare about Fitz's personal life. "He doesn't have the best home life. That's why I didn't go to his place. I mean, I know Fitz wouldn't try anything, but…"

_Steve_… well, she wouldn't put it past him. She'd only met the guy once, but he made her uncomfortable. She knew he roughed up Fitz from time to time, and if _Fitz_ couldn't take him on, then there was no way _she_ could.

"I know about his step-brother…" Clare murmured, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "About how he's treated… he told me."

"Steve's an asshole." Bianca confirmed. "And that's putting it lightly."

Clare sighed, then glanced down at her watch and back at Bianca.

"It's getting late," she said, standing up and turning off the TV.

Bianca followed suit, and the two made their way back upstairs and to Clare's room.

"You can sleep in Darcy's room," said Clare. "It's right beside mine."

"Darcy?" Bianca repeated.

"My sister." Clare replied. "She's in Africa right now. She was…" she trailed off, and shook her head. "It doesn't matter. She's not here right now, so you can take her room."

"Thanks."

Clare nodded, walking over to her dresser and retrieving a towel.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I'll be out in a bit." She said, before disappearing out into the hallway.

Bianca waited until she heard the shower turn on before opening her purse and taking out the tank top and sweatpants she'd stuffed inside. After shedding her school uniform, she got changed and ventured out into the hallway and into the bedroom next to Clare's. Everything inside was perfect, and not at all like her own room, where clothes littered the carpet and the smell of alcohol and smoke hung thick in the air. Even the bed was perfect, and looked like it had never been slept in.

She felt out of place, like she didn't belong there — like she was intruding.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled back the comforter and climbed in.

oOo

When Clare got out of the shower, she immediately noticed that Darcy's door was closed, and knew Bianca had already gone to sleep. Making her way back into her own room, she changed into her pajamas before turning off the light and getting into bed.

She was about to doze off when she heard her bedroom door creak open, and felt her mattress shift.

"I don't want to be alone… not tonight…" Bianca whispered, her voice frantic. "Can I sleep with you?"

Her bed wasn't meant for more than one, but Clare nodded anyways. "Yeah."

It was just for one night, she reminded herself, as Bianca climbed in next to her. Clare would have shifted to give her more room, but that would have left her dangling over the edge of the bed. So she stayed where she was, waiting for Bianca to get settled in.

Before long, both girls drifted off into a deep slumber.

X

**Ughhh that end scene sounded way better in my head. Le sigh.**

** Hopefully, you guys enjoyed.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think! **


	6. Denial

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Oh, wow! So many reviews! Thank you guys so much!

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Denial**_

X

When Clare awoke the next morning, Bianca was already gone.

In fact, save for the lingering scent of smoke and perfume on her pillows and sheets, there was no evidence that Bianca DeSousa had ever been at her house.

Clare yawned as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and stretching. Her muscles ached from having been in the same position all night, unable to move. She vaguely recalled waking up a few times during the night to find herself wrapped in Bianca's tight embrace. Needless to say, it had been awkward trying to pry Bianca's arms from her person, but fortunately the older girl was a deep sleeper and didn't even stir.

Crawling out of bed, Clare made her way into the washroom across the hall. After brushing her teeth, she splashed cold water in her face to make herself more alert before returning to her room to get dressed for school. When she deemed herself presentable, she grabbed her bag and went downstairs, where she found her mother sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Clare." Helen greeted, and Clare responded with a smile. "Where's your friend? Didn't she stay the night?"

"She had to leave early." Clare answered, digging through the pantry for something to eat. She eventually stumbled across a box of granola bars and grabbed one, before turning to face her mother.

"Oh. Well, she seemed like a nice girl." Helen replied. "I'm glad you're making more friends, honey."

Clare grimaced. It had been a while since she'd hung out with anyone. Sure, she spent time with Alli, but lately Alli had been helping Jenna with the baby when KC and his mom couldn't, so she hadn't seen much of her. As for Adam… Adam was Eli's friend too, and the last thing she wanted was to make him feel torn between them. It wouldn't be fair — not to him, or Eli.

The jingling of car keys drew Clare's attention back to her mother.

"Come on, I'll drop you off today."

Clare smiled weakly and nodded, before following her out the door.

oOo

Over the years, she had woken up next to many people — boyfriends, friends, casual flings and one night stands — but never once did Bianca ever expect to wake up beside Clare Edwards of all people.

If someone had told her a week ago that that would happen, Bianca would have laughed and called bullshit. There was just no way; it was such a ridiculous thought, like something that could only happen in an alternate universe, or a dream, or maybe another life but certainly not the one she was currently living.

They had never even crossed paths before. They were in different grades and ran in different circles. Were it not for her connection to the Tranny and Alli Bhandari (and by extension, Drew) or the fact that Fitz used to always whine about how much he wanted her, Bianca doubted she would have known Clare existed. They were polar opposites; Clare was the untouchable virgin — all "saintly" and pure. The kind of girl that Bianca would mock for being a prude — while _she_… she was the school slut.

And now fate or whatever had suddenly thrown them together.

Clare Edwards was the only person in the world who knew her secret, and Bianca was determined to keep it that way. For some reason, Clare believed her. Even if she came clean about what had happened, she doubted anyone else would, not with her reputation.

She left the Edwards' home at the crack of dawn, and wound up at the Dot just as the owner flipped the sign to OPEN. There was only one customer when she walked in, but it wouldn't be long before hoards of Degrassi students and faculty arrived for their morning caffeine fix. She grabbed a stool by the counter and began to rub her temples, trying to ease the throbbing migraine that had surfaced.

"Bee?" A familiar voice spoke, jarring Bianca from her reverie.

She groaned and lifted her gaze, only to find Fitz standing behind the counter.

Oh. Right. He worked there.

"What?" She snapped.

Fitz narrowed his eyes. "Are you hungover?"

Bianca glared at him. Disapproval was evident in his voice, and that pissed her off. Fitz had _no right_ to judge her, especially since _he_ had done the same shit before he was hauled off to Juvie.

Now he was a fucking Jesus freak and if he spammed her inbox with any more Bible crap, she was going to hurt someone.

"Hey, Bee, are you gonna order or what?"

"Yeah, yeah," Bianca grumbled, fishing through her bag for her wallet. "I'll have a bagel and a water."

Fitz nodded and wandered off to get her order while she took out two Tylenol tablets and popped them into her mouth.

When he returned with her bagel and a bottle of water, Bianca had cooled off somewhat and decided to strike up a conversation with her former partner-in-crime.

"I spent the night at Clare's." She announced nonchalantly.

Fitz made a choking noise in the back of his throat.

"Clare?" He repeated disbelievingly. "Clare _Edwards_?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

Fitz glanced around to make sure that his boss wasn't watching him before leaning over the counter, resting his weight on his elbows and licking his lips eagerly. "Did she say anything about me?"

Bianca snorted.

"Yeah. She said how much she wanted to fuck you." She rolled her eyes. "No, you idiot. We just watched some TV."

Okay, so that wasn't entirely true. She did recall Fitz being a part of her and Clare's conversation at some point, but he didn't need to know that. She didn't want to get his hopes up, even if he had been getting on her nerves lately. For a split second, Fitz looked crestfallen, but the look was gone as soon as she blinked, replaced with indifference.

She changed the subject. "So, how are things at your place?"

"Same old, same old." Fitz muttered. "Why?"

Bianca shrugged, picking off a piece of her bagel.

"I might need a place to stay tonight, in case my aunt's still pissed."

"That's probably not a good idea." Fitz said with a grimace. "Steve's been in a bad mood lately. It's only a matter of time before he takes it out on _someone_."

Her shoulders slumped. "Oh."

Damn.

Sparing a glance at the clock behind Fitz, she noticed that she had twenty minutes to get to school.

"I should get going," she said, hopping off her stool and gathering her belongings. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she started for the door, only to come to an abrupt halt when Fitz called out to her.

"Bee, wait." Reluctantly, she turned back to face him, avoiding his eyes as he stared hard at her. His brows pinched together. "What's going on? You seem… different."

"Nothing." She replied, perhaps too quickly. Keeping her face impassive, she shrugged again. "I'm having an off week. That's all. I'll see you later."

Without waiting for his response, Bianca left.

.

.

.

"Bianca!"

She had just stepped out of History when she heard her name. Immediately, her stomach plummeted and quickened her pace, practically sprinting down the hall and to her locker in an effort to avoid the source of the voice.

"Bianca! Hey, come on!"

Reaching her destination, Bianca yanked open her locker and threw her textbooks inside, before whirling around just as her boyfriend appeared by her side. He was panting slightly, his cheeks flushed from trying to catch up with her.

"What do you want, Drew?" She asked exasperatingly.

"What? No kiss?" Drew joked. His grin fell when she failed to crack even the smallest smile. He frowned. "What's with you lately?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Bianca muttered.

"You've been acting weird." He told her. "You won't talk to me, you've been ignoring my texts, you won't answer my calls… what's going on?"

"Nothing." She said irritably. "I'm just stressed out, okay?"

She tried to manoeuvre around him, but Drew wouldn't have any of that.

"I'm not stupid, Bianca. Something is obviously wrong," he said, reaching up to cup her face — only to have her flinch at his touch. He dropped his hands dejectedly. "Bianca… tell me. Please, I'm your boyfriend!"

"Nothing's wrong, Drew!" Bianca snapped, narrowing her eyes. "Okay? So just… back off and leave me alone!"

With that, she shoved him out of her way and stormed off, leaving a confused Drew behind.

X

**Eh, this chapter is kind of short, but I hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless. I'm glad this fic is getting so much positive feedback!**

** Anyway, leave a ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	7. Escape

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: I am so sorry about the long wait! Here's the next chapter!

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Escape**_

X

Being in the same class as Eli was hard.

After everything they had been through, she had been ridiculous to think that it would be easy to just move on. Only a few weeks had passed since the accident; that wasn't nearly long enough to forget the experiences they'd shared or the way he made her feel — the way he _still_ made her feel. Despite everything that happened, she still cared about him. She still thought about him; she thought about his voice, his touch, his lips — and there was a part of her, a big part, that wished she could go back to _that night_ and fix everything.

Make a different choice.

Choose a different path.

But it was too late for that.

The damage was already done, and Clare couldn't do a damn thing about it. Although she wanted nothing more than to talk to him — to see how he was doing, and make sure he was okay — she knew she couldn't. She had forfeited _that_ right the moment she left him in the hospital, even when he begged her to stay. It wasn't her place to be concerned about him anymore.

The sound of the bell interrupted her train of thought. With a defeated sigh, Clare stood up and gathered her belongings, keeping her eyes downcast as she stepped out into the crowded hallway. She tried to ignore the pang in her chest and the voice in the back of her head reminding her of the mistake she'd made, and hurried to her locker. Stuffing her English notes inside, she reached for her History textbook, hoping that her next class would be able to keep her distracted.

She was about to close her locker when a commotion suddenly pulled her attention to the end of the hall. Her brow furrowed when she saw who it was.

_"Nothing's wrong, Drew! _Okay_? So just back off and leave me alone!"_

As Bianca stormed away, curious bystanders broke into murmurs, trying to figure out what had caused the dispute between the couple. Clare ignored them however and, grabbing her bag, she shut her locker and took off in the direction she'd seen Bianca go.

After searching for the older girl for almost five minutes, she eventually found her in the parking lot behind the school. Strands of curly hair were matted to her tear-streaked face, and her hands shook as she tried to open her car. Clare approached her cautiously, mindful of the distance between them in case Bianca decided to lash out.

"Bianca?"

"_What_?" The older girl barked, but when she glanced up her expression softened somewhat. "Oh, it's just you. What do _you_ want?"

"To see if you're alright." Clare answered.

"Does it _look_ like I'm alright?" Bianca snapped, making the younger girl flinch.

"No… I guess not…" Clare murmured. "Is that why you're leaving?"

"I can't be here. Drew… it's just… shit." Bianca took a deep breath. "I can't deal with him right now. Or _anyone_. I just… I need to be alone."

Clare nodded in understanding, before taking a step forward and placing a hand on Bianca's shoulder — but the latter shrugged it off and shot her a glare. Without another word, she yanked open her car door and climbed inside. As she fumbled with her keys, Clare made her way around the car and entered the passenger's side — much to Bianca's obvious surprise.

"Hey, what do you think you're -" she started, but Clare cut her off.

"I'll be alone with you."

Bianca stared at her incredulously for a moment before letting out a short laugh. "Whatever."

Clare grinned weakly.

"So, where are we going?" She asked, buckling her seatbelt.

Bianca shrugged, turning on the ignition. "Doesn't matter. Anywhere's better than here, though."

Clare said nothing as they pulled out of the school parking lot and started down the road, and for the next little while, Bianca drove aimlessly, with no particular destination in mind. The ride was mostly quiet, save for the music coming from the radio, but it wasn't the kind of music that Clare liked or listened to — or had even heard of, she realized. Tuning it out, she kept herself preoccupied by staring out the window, watching the buildings and lamp posts and other cars that passed them by.

It wasn't long before Bianca made a right, and Clare furrowed her brow.

"We're not going to the Ravine, are we?" She asked bluntly.

She had only ever been to the Ravine once, with Alli, and didn't like it. But she knew that Bianca frequented it — or had at some point. Since she started dating Drew, Adam told her that they'd been attached at the hip, and the Ravine just didn't seem like the type of place that Drew would hang out at.

"Why? Afraid of the big, bad stoners?" Bianca sneered, before shaking her head. "No."

"Then where are we going?" Clare asked.

"I don't know," muttered Bianca, shrugging.

Clare pursed her lips, peering out the window once more. Her eyes widened when she recognized what direction they were headed, and she nudged the older girl.

"Turn here." She instructed, pointing left.

"Why?" Bianca asked suspiciously.

"Just do it." Clare told her.

Bianca sighed loudly, clearly not wanting to take orders from the younger teen, but steered the car in the direction Clare was pointing anyway. The road beneath became less smooth and eventually turned to gravel, and as they neared a familiar chain-link fence, Clare's heart began to race. When the abandoned church that she, Eli and Adam had once called their own came into view, she almost wanted to cry. Since the break up, she hadn't stepped foot there, but Bianca wanted somewhere to be alone, where no one would be able to find her — and this was the perfect place.

"Where are we, Edwards?" Bianca demanded, snapping Clare out of her reverie.

She glanced over at the dark-haired girl, forcing a smile.

"Solitude."

.

.

.

They spent the next half hour sitting on the hood of Bianca's car, staring up at the sky and doing absolutely nothing. Little was spoken between them as both girls were content with just being away from their problems and enjoying the peace and quiet.

"Where did you find this place?" Bianca asked after a while, turning her head to look at the younger teen.

"I didn't…" Clare said simply, and there was a hint of sadness in her voice that Bianca couldn't help but notice. "Eli did."

"… oh." The dark-haired girl pursed her lips, feeling a bit guilty but not knowing _why_, exactly.

She had heard that Clare and Dr. Doom split — word travelled fast around Degrassi — but at the time, hadn't given it much thought. She frowned, glancing back up at the sky, trying to remember what else she'd heard about the break up, but her mind was blank. Wow, she really hadn't cared. Then again, she'd never been much for gossip, which is exactly what she had initially assumed it to be.

"So… why'd you guys end it?" She asked before she could stop herself.

At first, Clare didn't answer. She remained mute, clearly deep in thought, as though debating whether or not she wanted to tell Bianca. Bianca waited patiently — even though it was completely out of character for her, she mused — until finally, Clare spoke.

"Things just got… intense." She murmured, her eyes downcast. "And… I couldn't handle it…" She bit her lip, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "I'm a horrible person."

Bianca made a face.

"Breaking up with someone doesn't make you a horrible person." She told her.

Clare shook her head and wiped her eyes. "No, but… I promised I'd never leave him. He's so… fragile… and broken… but overwhelming too, and I thought I could handle it but… I was wrong… and I left him. I broke my promise."

Bianca stared at the younger girl, her brows knitted together. As tears began to roll down Clare's cheeks, her chest tightened, feeling pity for her, but at the same time her stomach twisted in disgust, and a part of her wanted to slap Clare and tell her that getting _that_ attached wasn't worth it. She sighed, combing her fingers through her dark hair, before scooting closer and draping an arm over Clare's shoulders. When the younger teen suddenly let out a choked sob and buried her face in her shirt, she froze, her fingers curled as if prepared to claw the other teen for invading her personal space.

She was beyond confused. She had no idea how to comfort a crying girl, and suddenly remembered why she preferred to hang out with guys — they didn't get all emotional and start bawling their eyes out over break ups.

Well, at least most of them didn't. Though Owen had been particularly mopey when Anya rejected him, but that was a different story.

When Clare's sobs died down, she pulled away, wiping her tear-stained cheeks and sniffling.

"I'm sorry…" she murmured. "I don't know what came over me…"

Bianca shrugged, keeping her face unreadable.

"Whatever…" she muttered. "Just don't make a habit of it, okay?"

Clare smiled weakly and nodded, before taking a deep breath.

As she struggled to regain her composure, Bianca closed her eyes and listened to the leaves rustling in the wind.

_"You're nothing but a slut."_

Her eyes flew open and she tensed, glancing around fearfully, only to realize it had all been in her head.

Great.

She was going crazy.

"Bianca?" Clare's voice drew her attention to the girl sitting next to her, staring at her intently. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything's fine." Bianca lied. "I just have a headache. That's all."

"Are you sure?" The other teen asked, worry etched across her face.

"… yeah." She murmured, refusing to meet Clare's gaze. "I think I just need some sleep."

It was obvious that Clare didn't believe her, but she didn't press for answers. Instead she turned away, staring off ahead and getting lost in her own thoughts.

Once again, there was silence.

X

**And that's the end of chapter 7. I apologize for the long wait. I don't know… I just haven't been in the mood to write lately. Or hadn't been, I should say. It's slowly coming back to me though, so don't worry.**

** Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	8. Run

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: I apologize for another long wait.

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Run**_

X

One week.

It had been one week since the attack, and yet it felt as though it had happened mere hours ago. Bianca could still see _his_ face every time she closed her eyes, his oily hair and lecherous smile forever stained in her memory. And his eyes — the way he had looked at her afterwards, sneering as he zipped up his pants and stood… like she was nothing more than _trash_…

She brought a hand to her mouth, swallowing the bile in her throat, and took a deep breath before stepping back to look at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was still wet from her shower; damp curls clung to her face, neck and shoulders while droplets of water trickled down her back. The towel she had wrapped around herself left little to the imagination, and she could still make out the bruises on her breasts from where _he_ had groped her, yellow and faded. His calloused hands had touched and grabbed her everywhere, and while most of her bruises had healed, many of them hadn't. The blue and purple blotches decorating her thighs and hips still remained — a reminder of what had happened _that night_.

Tearing her eyes away from her reflection, Bianca was about to head to her room when something caught her eye. The clothes she had stuffed into the trash bin were still there, their bright neon colors mocking her. She clenched her fists, reaching down and grabbing the outfit, before hurrying to her bedroom where she then threw the bundle of neon into the corner of her room with an angry shriek.

Breathing heavily, she combed her fingers through her dark hair and tried to regain her composure. After about a minute or so, she succeeded, and made her way over to her dresser. She fished through her drawers for what seemed like an eternity, consciously avoiding anything too revealing — but it was almost impossible. Most of her wardrobe consisted of low-cut tops and shirts that exposed her midriff, and dresses that complemented her figure — her legs, especially.

It was the kind of wardrobe meant to lure guys like Drew in; the kind of wardrobe that made other girls jealous of her.

The kind of wardrobe that got her attacked.

Bianca squeezed her eyes shut, trying to erase the memory of that night. She didn't want to think about it. If she didn't think about it, then she could pretend like it never happened.

When she finally found something to wear, she quickly changed into it and got started on her makeup, concealing the dark circles under her eyes — a clear indication of how little sleep she'd been getting. It was a miracle she hadn't fallen asleep in class or at the wheel, but then again, living off coffee and energy drinks probably had something to do with it.

After applying some mascara and lip gloss, Bianca gave herself a once-over in the mirror. Somewhat satisfied with her appearance, she was just starting to put her makeup away when she heard the front door burst open, and her mother's drunk, obnoxious giggles echo throughout the house.

With an annoyed sigh, Bianca ventured out of her room and down the hall, where she saw a woman who looked almost identical to her stumble into the living room. She was accompanied by a man in his late thirties-early forties. He was bald and wore a wife beater that showed off the tattoos covering his arms, and had a piercing in his eyebrow. Neither adult seemed to notice her as they collapsed on the couch, her mother straddling the man and moving to take off her shirt while her new beau watched intently, licking his lips.

Bianca gagged, and quickly turned to leave when the man glanced over her mother's shoulder and spotted her. Bianca froze, unable to move, while her mother said something and then followed the man's gaze. She scowled upon seeing her.

"Bianca!" She hissed, standing up and covering herself. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I _live_ here, _Mother_." Bianca sneered, putting an emphasis on "mother" just to spite the older woman.

Felicia DeSousa narrowed her eyes dangerously, before turning to address the man behind her.

"Joseph, this is Bianca… my daughter." She said tightly, through gritted teeth. "Bianca, this is Joseph." She let out an irritated sigh. "I'm gonna go freshen up." With that, she leaned down and kissed man soundly on the mouth before making her way to the washroom, brushing past Bianca without even so much as a glance — like she wasn't there at all.

Bianca's nails bit into her palms as she clenched her fists; it wasn't until she heard the shower that she relaxed, walking over to the coffee table and snatching up the remote. She sat on the far end of the sofa, away from Joseph, and distracted herself with flipping through the channels while ignoring his very existence.

"You know, when Felicia told me she had a kid, I was expecting… well, a _kid_."

Bianca's eyes flickered over to the man as he spoke, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end when she saw him looking at her. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus on what was happening on the TV screen, but when the couch shifted and she realized Joseph was inching closer, she stiffened, gripping the remote tightly.

"I didn't expect you to be so… pretty…" Joseph's hot breath fanned over ear, making Bianca's stomach churn. "I bet all the guys flock to you, don't they?" She could hear the alarms going off in her head as his arm snaked around her waist and he placed his free hand on her jean-clad thigh. "Your mom won't be out for a while… why don't I show you what a real man is?"

_"Hey, sexy!"_

An ear-piercing scream tore from the back of Bianca's throat and she shoved Joseph out of the way.

"Don't touch me!" She shrieked, jumping up and backing away.

"You ungrateful bitch." Joseph snarled. "I try to be nice and this is what I get in return? Didn't anyone ever teach you some damn respect?"

_"You're nothing but a slut. A dirty _whore_ who needs to learn some fucking _respect_."_

"Fuck you!" Bianca spat.

In a flash, Joseph was on his feet and in front of her, gripping her forearm tightly. Bianca bit back a cry and tried to rip her arm out of his grasp, but to no avail. Joseph's lips curved upward as he watched her panic, her eyes wide and terrified, like a caged animal. After about a minute or so, he let go, causing Bianca to stumble back, cradling her arm.

"Bitch." He grumbled, returning to his spot on the couch just as Felicia emerged from the washroom in nothing but lingerie.

As she re-entered the living room, her eyes darted back and forth between her boyfriend and her daughter, before finally settling on Bianca. She shot her a look of disdain.

"What are you still doing here? Don't you have somewhere else to be?" She sneered.

Bianca stared blankly at her mother before shaking her head.

"Un-fucking-believable." She muttered, while Felicia continued to glare at her. She rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'm going. Just let me grab my shit."

With that, she headed back to her room, grabbing a duffel bag and quickly packing. In seconds, her bag was bulging with clothes, makeup, books and shoes, and when she could no longer fit anything else inside, she zipped it up and swung it over her shoulder. As she made her way into the hall and past the living room, she kept her eyes on the floor, trying to tune out the grunts and moans emitting from the couch as she hurried outside.

Then she took off down the road, and to the only home she knew.

X

**This chapter is relatively short compared to the others, but it is important as it sort of delves into Bianca's relationship with her mother… ain't Felicia a gem? Mother of the Year, right there.**

** Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed!**

** I'll try to make the next chapter longer.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	9. Dinner Disaster

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: I'm sorry my updates haven't been very frequent lately. I've been busy and just… haven't really been in a writing mood, I guess. But here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Dinner Disaster**_

X

"We're having company tonight."

At the sound of her mother's voice, Clare glanced up from her laptop. Her mother stood some feet away from her, leaning against the threshold connecting the kitchen to the living room, holding a cup of coffee. She wasn't looking at Clare but rather _past_ her, at the wall, seemingly lost in thought. Clare furrowed her brow in confusion, about to speak up when Helen continued. "The Martins will be joining us for dinner."

"The Martins?" Clare repeated disbelievingly.

Her mother nodded curtly, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Glen and his son just moved back to Toronto not too long ago." She explained. "You remember Jake, right Clare?" 

Of course she remembered Jake Martin. It was hard to forget about the scrawny boy who used to pull her pigtails and throw dead frogs at her.

"Yes." She said flatly. "I remember him."

Unfortunately.

"Good, good…" After a pregnant pause, Helen went on. "Well, I just wanted to let you know. So if you've made plans with your friends, you'll have to cancel them. This is more important right now."

Clare narrowed her eyes.

She hadn't made plans, but that didn't matter. What if she _had_? What if they were just as important, if not more? Of course, her mother didn't seem to take _that_ into consideration before making plans for the night on a whim, and _that_ was what really bothered her. Hands curling into fists, Clare turned away from her mother and stared at her laptop. A few minutes later, Clare heard the shower turn on and realized her mother was no longer in the room with her, but continued to stare at the screen in front of her.

Anger melted into frustration as she tried to, once again, focus her attention on school, but her efforts were futile.

The page remained empty, and her mind blank.

Her inspiration was gone.

.

.

.

Hours later, Clare found herself sitting at the dining room table, opposite none other than Jake Martin. As her mother and Mr. Martin talked — about what, she didn't know, nor did she really care — she stared down at her plate, picking away at her food. Occasionally, she spared glances at the boy across from her when she thought he wasn't looking.

Jake hardly resembled the lanky boy she remembered. He was taller, broader… and definitely cuter. But he was also a pig, and seemed to lack table manners. Then again, perhaps she was just being nit-picky. Perhaps the eight-year-old inside her was still bitter from being tormented with frogs and worms and other creepy crawlies. Maybe she was just _trying_ to find flaws.

"So… what brings you two back to Toronto?" Helen's voice shattered Clare's reverie and she looked up, tuning into the conversation.

Glen seemed to have much better etiquette than his son, and finished chewing his steak before answering. "Oh, you know… we sort of missed living in the city. There's a lot more opportunity here, and after the wife and I split -" out of the corner of her eye, Clare noticed Jake tense slightly, "- we really needed a change of scenery. Right, Jake?"

Jake nodded and smiled, but Clare could tell it was forced.

"I understand _completely_, Glen." Helen brought Clare's attention back to her, and Clare arched a brow when she saw how her mother was looking at Glen. She reminded her of a doe-eyed schoolgirl, and the thought made Clare cringe. Her parents' divorce hadn't even been finalized yet, and her mother already had her eye on another man? The same woman who had once _condemned_ divorce? Clare felt as though she had been sucked into an alternate universe. "Divorce is hard — break ups too. Isn't that right, Clare?"

Clare shot her mother an incredulous look. "Mom!"

Helen clearly didn't hear her, for she went on. "It was an awful break up. All Clare does now is mope around the house."

Clare couldn't believe her ears. Her mother — her _own_ _mother_ — was actually _gossiping_ about her, talking about her break up as though it was something silly and trivial and not worth being truly upset over. Her and Eli may not have been together for over fifteen years, but that didn't mean that their break up wasn't hard. She had no right — _no right_ — to talk about _her_ love life. Anger swelled up inside her as her mother continued to prattle on about _her_ failed relationship and how she just _knew_ that Eli was bad news from the start and how he had _changed_ her. Never mind the fact that _she_, herself, hardly resembled the mother that _Clare_ remembered growing up with.

"I knew he wasn't right for her. He was clearly disturbed. He drove a _hearse_ and I don't think I ever saw him wear anything but black… no wonder Clare stays cooped up in her room all day. Being around that boy…"

Clare just about lost it, and stood up so quickly that the chair scraped noisily across he floorboard, no doubt leaving a mark. Clare didn't care, though, as she clenched her fists and tried not to lose her cool. All eyes were suddenly on her. Her mother was frowning, Glen was startled, and Jake looked torn between amusement and (if she read him correctly) _concern_.

Her blood was boiling, and she wanted nothing more than to scream at her mother — to tell her to _butt out_ of _her_ love life — but she knew she'd only get in trouble. Without a word, Clare left the table, paying no heed to her mother's, "Where do you think you're going, young lady?" as she made her way into the foyer. Grabbing her denim jacket and her purse from their respective hooks, she walked out of the house, slamming the door behind her so hard that the pictures hanging on the wall shook.

She was about halfway down the street when a voice called out to her.

"Clare!"

She spun around just in time to see Jake jogging towards her.

"What do you want?" She demanded, once he came to a halt in front of her.

"Your mom wanted me to keep an eye on you." Jake said simply, and Clare promptly scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I don't need a babysitter." She muttered, turning away from him and continuing down the road.

"Where are you going?" Jake asked, quickly falling into step with her.

"I don't know." Clare said, growing agitated with his presence. "Alli's… the Dot… anywhere's better than here right now."

"I'll come with you." Jake suggested, and when she threw him a sceptical glance, he shrugged. "It's better than listening our parents flirt."

"Oh, you noticed?" Clare drawled, before shaking her head angrily. "I can't believe her. She's such a hypocrite."

Jake remained silent, stuffing his hands into his pockets as they made their way to their destination.

.

.

.

The Dot was crowded by the time they arrived. As Jake casually observed the local hangout, Clare peered around in search for anyone she knew. She recognized a few faces; Zane Park and Riley Stavros were sitting by the window, sharing a meaningful look that made her more than a little envious, knowing she probably wouldn't have _that_ again for a long time. She also spotted Peter serving customers, and had he not been so busy, she would've talked to him. They hadn't really spoken since Darcy left for Kenya, but she knew he had graduated and was studying at TU.

There were other Degrassi students sitting around, but none she knew well enough to strike up a conversation with out of the blue — save for Jesus Club. Her eyes flickered over to the group, huddled at the back of the restaurant. Three tables had to be pushed together to accommodate them all. Once upon a time, she would have joined them, but when her parents started fighting, the club fell off her radar. She had only gone back once since the beginning of the year, and after that, they more or less shunned her.

They hadn't exactly taken kindly to Eli and his beliefs — or lack thereof.

On top of dating an atheist, her parents were in the middle of a divorce and they all knew it. They probably assumed that next she was going to throw away her vow and spread her legs for the first guy who asked, or start practicing witchcraft. To them, she was the weakest link — a stain on their otherwise _pure_ club — and so they cut her out.

The door chimed, bringing Clare back to the present, but when she glanced over to see who had entered, she wished she hadn't.

Her heart stopped as Eli walked into the Dot — but he wasn't alone. He was accompanied by a girl with dark hair and thick-rimmed glasses. Clare frowned as he held the door open for her, and was about to turn away when Eli in her direction. Their eyes locked, and Clare froze like a deer in the headlights, her pulse racing. Her knees began to shake as he made his way towards her, followed closely by the dark-haired girl, and Clare took a deep breath, bracing herself for the inevitable talk.

Only to have him walk right past her, as if she didn't exist.

Whirling around, Clare watched in disbelief as Eli and the girl sat at a nearby table, far too close for Clare's liking. Her stomach twisted and churned as she looked on jealously, and after about a minute, she tore her gaze away.

She needed to leave.

Spotting Jake a few feet from her, talking — correction: _flirting_ — with a redhead from her Chemistry class, Clare walked over and grabbed him by the sleeve of his plaid shirt.

"We're leaving," she said. "Let's go."

Jake opened his mouth to protest, but Clare wouldn't have any of it. She dragged him through the crowd, heading straight for the door, only to come to an abrupt halt when their path was blocked.

"Fancy seeing you here." Eli's voice was slightly raspy as he spoke.

"Eli," Clare nodded at him in greeting. She licked her lips before hesitantly meeting his gaze. "How… how are you?"

"Better." Eli said simply, his face impassive. He motioned to the dark-haired girl standing next to him. "You know Imogen, right?"

The name sounded familiar, but Clare didn't remember ever seeing her around.

She shook her head, giving him a wry smile.

"Not exactly." She said, before turning to the girl "I'm -"

"Clare Edwards." The girl — Imogen? — cut her off, adjusting her glasses and eyeing Clare with contempt. "Yes… I know all about you."

There was something unsettling about her statement, and the way she looked at her made Clare feel small. Cocking her head to the side, Clare was about to ask Imogen to elaborate when Jake suddenly made his presence known, draping an arm over her shoulders. Clare stiffened and she tried to shrug Jake's arm off, but Jake simply pulled her close to him. Her gaze shifted to Eli, who remained stoic, his expression blank.

"Eli, this is…"

"Jake." Jake finished with a grin, extending his hand to Eli. "And you must be the ex."

Eli opened his mouth to respond, but Clare interrupted.

"Well, would you look a the time! We better head home!" She said, laughing nervously. "It was nice catching up with you, but… we really have to go now. Come on, Jake."

Looping her arm through Jake's, she pulled him along, brushing past Eli and Imogen and pushing their way through throngs of people on the way to the exit. When they finally managed to get outside, Clare released Jake's arm and spun around to face him, planting her hands firmly on her hips and glaring daggers at him.

"Why would you _do_ that?" She hissed, her cheeks red with anger.

Jake shrugged. "I thought I was helping."

"Helping?" Clare seethed. "Now he's going to think I'm some kind of floozy who hooks up with random guys on a whim!" 

Jake let out a laugh. "Where do you come up with this stuff?" He shook his head, still grinning in amusement. "You really are clueless. He was parading that girl in front of you on purpose. He was _trying_ to make you jealous."

"Eli wouldn't do that." Clare snapped.

"Either that or he's moved on. Would you rather believe _that_?" Jake countered, raising a challenging brow.

Clare balled her fists. The thought of Eli moving on so quickly made her sick to her stomach. After everything _they_ had been through… after how long it had taken him to get over Julia… she closed her eyes, falling back against the brick wall behind her. After a couple of minutes, she managed to calm down, but thoughts of Eli and Imogen lingered in her mind. _Had_ he moved on? She didn't want to believe it — after all, it had only been a few weeks since the accident — but what if he had?

"Maybe you should move on too." Jake's voice jarred Clare from her thoughts.

Her head snapped up and she stared at him in disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

Jake shrugged again.

"No use dwelling over him if he's with another girl. Get over it and move on." He said nonchalantly.

"It's not that simple!" Clare cried. "Eli and I -"

"Had something _special_?" Jake finished. When Clare fell silent, he rolled his eyes. "Everyone always thinks that their relationship is one of a kind, and then when it falls apart, they can't believe it. That's why I don't do relationships."

"Good for you." Clare deadpanned.

"I'm just saying… if you ever want to have a bit of fun with no strings attached…" He gave her a suggestive look.

"You're a pig." She muttered, crossing her arms.

"I'm sure many of my casual acquaintances would disagree." Jake said smugly.

Clare scoffed. "Yes, well, clearly your 'casual acquaintances' are desperate and have no taste."

"And you do?" Jake retorted. "Your ex looks like rejected member of My Chemical Romance."

A frustrated noise erupted from the back of her throat and she threw her hands up. Shooting Jake one last glare, Clare whipped around and started walking in the opposite direction. She ignored Jake as he called out after her, "Where are you going?" and when she heard his footsteps approaching, she walked faster.

She was no longer in the mood to deal with Jake Martin.

Practically breaking into a run, she had just turned a corner when a beat up looking car suddenly pulled up to the curb with a screech, bringing her to an abrupt halt. Then the passenger door flew open, revealing none other than Mark Fitzgerald, still in his work uniform.

"Get in." He told her, and against her better judgement, Clare wasted no time climbing into the back seat.

As she closed the door, the car sped off and she was flung to the left with a squeak. Sitting up straight, she quickly buckled herself in and glanced over her shoulder, where Jake's figure grew smaller and smaller until she couldn't even see him anymore. Clare let out a soft sigh and relaxed — that is, before she remembered whose car she was in. Biting her lip, she leaned forward.

"W-where are we going?" She asked.

Fitz's mouth twitched. "You'll see."

X

** FINALLY.**

** This chapter was a bitch and a half to write, but it is longer than the last one. Actually, it's THE longest one so far. I don't know why I had so much difficulty writing it, but… I did, and it was frustrating as hell.**

** Also, this chapter has a serious lack of Bianca, but don't you worry… she'll be in the next one.**

** Also, Fitz… ehh. I was torn between making it him, Owen, or Johnny. I decided to go with him, though, because… I miss writing Fitz.**

** Anyway, once again… I apologize for the long wait. Hopefully this chapter made up for it, though.**


	10. Forget

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: It's been a while, hasn't it?

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Forget**_

X

"The Ravine? You took me to the _Ravine_?" Clare hissed in disbelief as Fitz parked the car and cut the engine.

Fitz said nothing as he got out, and against her better judgement, Clare got out too. The sky was getting dark and she didn't want to be left alone in Fitz's car — especially at night, in the middle of the woods. A gust of wind picked up, making her shiver and wrap her arms around herself. As the two dodged branches and fought their way through thick bushes, it occurred to Clare that she should've worn a heavier coat. A small groan fell from her lips, but Fitz didn't seem to hear; he was walking a few feet ahead of her, using his cell phone as a flashlight.

Falling into step behind him, Clare couldn't help but feel wary of his presence, but also oddly comforted. After everything that had happened that night — from her mother to Eli to Jake's proposal — getting into Fitz's car had seemed like a great idea at the time. But why had he driven them to the Ravine of all places? She hadn't spoken to him since the day he'd showed up on her doorstep, beaten and bruised, and that had been months ago.

Did he still have "feelings" for her?

Had he ever?

Bianca seemed to think so, but then, how well did she really know Bianca?

Staring at the back of Fitz's head, Clare furrowed her brow, debating whether or not to run. She had her phone; she could call her mom to come get her — but she was still angry about what had happened at dinner. And besides, she wasn't quite ready to get scolded yet.

Before she could decide, they reached a familiar clearing, where a large group of teenagers sat around a bonfire. Some were drinking, some were smoking, and some were making out — but all of them were, or had been, Degrassi students. They were the bottom-of-the-barrel students; the ones that teachers had long since given up on; the ones who had fallen through the cracks. Instinctively, Clare moved closer to Fitz, hoping no one recognized her. The last thing she wanted was for the whole school to think that she was some _floozy_ who frequented the Ravine.

Fitz's laugh jarred her from her thoughts and she glanced up to see him smirking at her.

"The party awaits." He said, leading her over to the circle.

A few people looked up, curious, but most ignored them. While Fitz got re-acquainted with everyone around them, Clare plopped down on an empty log, fidgeting.

Just then, a high-pitched shriek pierced her ears, and before Clare could react, a pair of thin arms were wrapped around her, and Bianca DeSousa's lavender perfume was invading her senses.

"Edwards… what are you doing here?" The older girl asked, unusually giddy.

"I could ask you the same thing." Clare murmured.

"Nice to see you too, Bee." Fitz remarked, settling down in the lawn chair next to Clare with a joint.

Clare narrowed her eyes.

"I thought you didn't do this kind of thing anymore." She said accusingly.

Fitz glanced over, his expression blank.

"You wouldn't understand." He muttered, before bringing the joint to his lips. After a few seconds, he exhaled and gave her a lazy smile. "Besides, why do you care?"

"Because -" Clare started, but Bianca cut her off.

"You should try it!" She said, reaching over Clare to snatch the joint from Fitz, and holding it in front of Clare's face. "C'mon, it'll loosen you up!"

"No!" Clare snapped. "What are you doing here, Bianca? With all these -" she lowered her voice, "_guys_ around…"

"Don't!" Bianca growled, covering her mouth. "Don't say a _fucking_ word."

Clare pried her hand away and stood up, grabbing Bianca's arm in the process.

"We're leaving." She told her. "You're coming with me, back to my house, and we're going to figure something out."

"Don't touch me!" Bianca snarled, ripping her arm away and shoving Clare.

Clare stumbled back, losing her balance and falling right into Fitz's lap. Fitz let out a pained grunt, but smirked when he realized who it was before glaring at Bianca.

"Knock it off, Bee!" He snapped. "Just how wasted are you?"

"Fuck you, Bible Thumper." Bianca spat, ignoring his question.

She lost her footing for a split second, stumbling forward, but managed to catch herself in time. Her hair was wild and her cheeks were flushed — and as Clare looked closer, she couldn't help but notice that Bianca's eyes seemed more dilated than usual. Clare frowned. Was she _high_ too? Before she could say anything, she felt a hand on her knee. Remembering whose lap she was on, Clare blushed, scrambling to remove herself — but Fitz wouldn't let her.

"C'mon… 's'not every day an _angel_ falls into my lap." He teased.

"Fitz, please… I'm not…" Clare protested, squirming uncomfortably. "You know I don't like you like that."

Fitz tightened his hold somewhat before letting go altogether.

"Right… you're with _Eli_." He muttered in defeat.

Clare tensed at the mention of her ex, dropping her gaze. In an instant, she was back at the hospital and Eli was begging her not to leave. Her heart ached at the memory and she closed her eyes, trying to think of something else — anything else. But her mind betrayed her and she found herself thinking about earlier that night, at the Dot, seeing Eli with another girl and brushing her off like she was _nothing_.

"Didn't you hear, Fitzy? They split," Bianca slurred, plopping down on the log that Clare had once occupied.

Clare glared at Bianca, but the older girl was too intoxicated to notice, amusing herself with the zipper on her jacket instead.

"You broke up? Why?" Fitz asked. "I thought you were supposed to be soul mates or whatever."

"Yeah, well, we're not." Clare muttered.

"What happened?" Fitz pressed.

"I don't want to talk about it." She craned her neck to look at him. "Can you just take me home? And _her_ too. I don't think we should leave her here."

Fitz nodded slowly, taking a long drag of his joint. "Just let me finish this… and then…" he trailed off.

Clare sighed irritably.

Bianca giggled, leaning over. "You two should hook up. Get your mind off Dr. Doom. Bet Fitzy wouldn't mind — he's always talkin' about boning you."

Clare scrunched up her nose in disgust.

"That was before!" Fitz protested. "Don't listen to her, Clare."

"Don't act like you don't want her." Bianca scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Fitz fell silent, guilt etched across his face. Clare furrowed her brow, reminiscing about the events that night and the last few weeks. As Jake's words echoed in the back of her mind — _"Get over it and move on."_ — she shifted around in Fitz's lap, sitting sideways and letting her feet dangle over his legs. Before he could protest, she plucked the joint out of his mouth and brought it to her own, inhaling slowly and then coughing. Bianca let out a laugh, patting her on the back, while Fitz eyed her in confusion. Once her coughs died down, she smirked at him and stood up.

"What are you…" He started.

Instead of answering, Clare took his hand and led him over to one of the vans parked nearby. She spared a glance at Bianca to make sure she was safe before closing the door behind them.

"Clare…?" Fitz asked cautiously.

"Shut up." With that, Clare brought her lips to his.

oOo

"Well, this was… fun…" Fitz said, clearing his throat awkwardly as he pulled up to the curb outside the Edwards' home.

"Yeah," Clare mumbled, adjusting the collar of her shirt to hide the hickey on her neck before climbing out of the car. "I'll… see you around."

She helped Bianca get out before making her way up to the porch. As she fumbled with her keys, she could hear Fitz drive off and quickly unlocked the door and pushed it open. The lights were off and the house was pitch black. It was eerily quiet, but Clare was glad that her mother hadn't bothered staying up to yell at her for missing her curfew. Draping Bianca's arm over her shoulders and balancing her duffel bag in the other, Clare carried the older girl up the stairs and to her room before depositing her on the bed and the duffel bag on the floor.

Bianca groaned, grumbling incoherently, but Clare ignored her and kicked off her shoes before making her way to the washroom. Her hair and clothes were dishevelled and her lips were swollen. Turning the faucet on, she grabbed her toothbrush and began brushing her teeth, trying desperately to wash the taste of beer and smoke and _Fitz_ out of her mouth.

She had just spent the last two hours making out with Mark Fitzgerald, crossing boundaries she hadn't crossed even with Eli. And why? To somehow spite him?

Gurgling some Listerine, she spit it into the sink before washing the makeup fro her face and making her way back to her room.

She felt disgusted with herself as she thought about Fitz's calloused fingertips on her skin, and his tongue in her mouth. It wasn't that she hated him, or found him hideous, but… she had essentially _used_ him in an attempt to get over Eli.

What kind of person was she?

Shaking her head, she looked up, where she saw Bianca sprawled across her bed in nothing but a tank top and shorts, passed out.

After changing into her pajamas, Clare crawled in beside her and closed her eyes.

X

**So, I'd like to apologize for the ridiculously long wait. It wasn't my intention. I've just been really busy with school, and for a while I didn't know where I was going with this story. I mean, I had an **_**idea**_**, but I hadn't really written a layout or anything. So I was stuck. And then, you know, **_"Now or Never" _**aired and after that, school started back up… and I haven't really been able to juggle this, my other fics, and school very well. Or rather, I should say, I haven't been able to FOCUS on one specific fic.**

** My thoughts have been rather scrambled.**

** Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Hopefully it was worth the long wait. I'll TRY to get the next one up faster.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	11. Hangover

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: It's been two months since my last update. I apologize for the long wait, but I've been really busy and just haven't found the time to write. I haven't given up on this fic, though, so I appreciate you all being so patient. Hopefully this chapter makes up for the wait!

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Hangover**_

X

When Bianca awoke the next morning, she was surprised to find herself not in her own bedroom, but in Clare Edwards'. There was no mistaking the pale pink walls or the girly décor. Her head throbbed as she sat up and peered around. She was slightly disoriented and her mind was foggy, only recalling bits and pieces from the night before. She remembered storming out of her house and getting smashed at the Ravine, but after that it was all just a whirlwind of drugs and booze and guys.

A soft groan drew Bianca's attention to the figure sprawled out next to her. Clare lay tangled in her sheets, her curls matted to her face and shirt riding up slightly, exposing her bellybutton. Reaching over, Bianca nudged the younger teen. Clare let out a whine and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. It wasn't until Bianca nudged her again that Clare was finally jarred from her slumber. Her eyes flickered open as she sat up and yawned.

"Bianca?" She mumbled tiredly. "What are you… ughnnn…"

She trailed off with a pained moan, leaning forward with her hand on her head.

"Drinking will do that." Bianca muttered casually as more memories slowly began to resurface in her mind.

"I'm never drinking again… I feel awful…" Clare groaned.

"You had fun, though, right?" Bianca asked, propping herself up against Clare's headboard and lighting a cigarette. "With Fitz?"

"Hey!" Clare hissed, plucking the cigarette from Bianca's fingers. "Don't do that here! My mom will kill me!"

Bianca rolled her eyes and cracked open Clare's window before snatching the cigarette back. "There. Problem solved. Happy now?"

Clare sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with the older girl.

"Besides," Bianca continued as she took a drag. "You were smoking up last night too. Quite the little rebel. I didn't know you had it in you. You're just full of surprises, aren't you, Edwards?"

Clare tore her gaze away. 

"What did you two _do_, anyway?" Bianca asked.

"We kissed." Clare murmured.

"So, you didn't…"

"We didn't have sex..." Clare confirmed.

"But?" Bianca pressed.

"But we… we made out and… I let him… touch me…" Clare admitted, guilt plastered across her face.

Bianca eyed the younger girl closely, taking a long drag before exhaling slowly.

"That's all?" She asked.

Clare nodded. "Yeah… why?"

"You know what that van's for, right?" When Clare shook her head, Bianca couldn't help but smirk at her naivety. "For girls to give guys head — _blowjobs_. You're lucky Fitz is a gentleman… most other guys would make you suck their -"

"Stop. Please." Clare begged, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don't want to think about it."

Bianca rolled her eyes. "You weren't this shy yesterday."

"I was _intoxicated_… and so were you." Clare said accusingly, before her expression softened. "What were you doing there, Bianca? After what happened to you, the Ravine's the last place you should be hanging around."

Bianca sighed, finishing her cigarette before tossing the butt out the window.

"I couldn't stay at home." She said quietly, drawing her knees up to her chest and staring off into space. "My mom's new boyfriend… he tried to… put the moves on me. 'Cause I'm hot, right?" She laughed bitterly, before shaking her head. "So I left and… I don't know… I was kinda hoping one of the guys at the Ravine would let me crash at their place for a while or something. Until it was safe to go back home."

"Bianca…" Clare whispered sadly, looking at the older girl sympathetically.

Bianca swallowed hard, feeling uncomfortable under Clare's gaze. She felt defensive and angry, because she didn't want to be pitied, but at the same time… she was tired of fighting. She started when Clare took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and looked up, uncertain. Clare smiled warmly.

"Stay here." She said.

Bianca's eyes darted from Clare's face to their hands, and back to her face. She bit her lip before letting it go, her gaze faltering.

"I… I can't…" She whispered. "Your parents… they'll flip… and… you've done enough for me…"

"I wasn't asking." Clare said firmly. "This isn't up for debate. You're staying here. My parents will understand."

Bianca stared at Clare for what seemed like an eternity, trying to read her. Why was she offering her a place to crash? Why was she helping her? What was _she_ getting out of it? These questions, and many more, swam through Bianca's mind as she searched Clare's eyes for some kind of explanation. Unable to find one, however, Bianca let out a defeated sigh, and grinned weakly.

"Thank you."

oOo

"Be honest… how obvious are they?"

Bianca rolled her eyes. They were in the washroom and had spent the last ten or so minutes covering the hickeys Fitz had given Clare. Being something of an expert when it came to hiding them — she'd been doing it for years, after all — Bianca had decided to help Clare do the same. It was the least she could do, after all.

"It looks fine." She assured the younger girl. "But if you're that worried, just wear this." She added, fishing out a scarf from her purse and wrapping it around Clare's neck.

Clare sighed, turning to look at her reflection.

She had told Bianca about everything that had happened to her the night before — about how she had ended up at the Ravine. She had told her about dinner, about the Dot, about Eli and Jake's proposition, about Fitz showing up… everything. The entire time, Bianca had listened attentively, feeling sorry for Clare, and as she watched Clare inspect her neck, an idea struck.

"Wait." She said, spinning Clare around.

She took out her makeup bag, pouring its contents onto the counter. Grabbing her eye shadow and eyeliner, she proceeded to paint Clare's eyes, making them smokier and more dramatic before using her mascara to exaggerate her lashes. After applying some pink lip gloss, she ruffled Clare's hair to give her curls a wilder look.

"This is how you get revenge." She whispered to the younger teen as she rolled her skirt up an inch before fixing her purple polo and popping open the first two buttons.

Once she was finished, Bianca took a step back and smirked. It wasn't too risqué or scandalous — Bianca knew the consequences of what _that_ could do — but for _Saint Clare_… it would definitely get people talking.

Before Clare could protest, the bell rang. Bianca's smirk grew and she hooked her arm through Clare's, leading her out of the washroom and into through the crowded halls.

"People are looking," Clare hissed.

She was right. People were staring at them, some in shock but most gawking in disbelief. Some feet away, Bianca could hear the whispers.

_I__s that Clare?_

_What's she doing with Bianca? _

_ I heard they were at the Ravine yesterday. _

_ No way. Clare wouldn't…_

_ What's going on?_

Drowning out the voices, Bianca tightened her hold on Clare.

"Let them." Was all she said.

X

**Next chapter… Jesus Club will make an appearance. As will Drew.**

** Once again, I apologize for the delay, and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	12. Walk Away

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Once again, my apologies for the wait. School's been keeping me busy, though. I haven't forgotten about my fics, don't worry. Over the next two weeks, I'll be updating them. With that said… enjoy!

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Walk Away**_

X

_Someone is on top of her. Rough hands tear at her clothes, grabbing and groping her as she struggles to get away. She can't breathe. His scent is suffocating her. She struggles harder, begging, growing more desperate and hysterical._

_ "Please… stop it… let me go… please…!"_

_ She opens her mouth to scream for help _—_ that's when she sees the knife. It gleams under the flickering streetlight. Her assailant's face is masked by the shadows surrounding them as she presses the blade against her throat._

_ "Go on, slut. Scream. I _dare_ you."_

Bianca jolted awake at the sound of the bell, her heart hammering against her chest. Around her, people were getting up to leave. At the front of the class, Perino was erasing that day's lesson from the board. Peering down at her notebook, Bianca saw that she'd only written down the date and part of a sentence. She sat back, combing her fingers through her thick curls.

A shadow loomed over her and she glanced up to see Perino standing there, looking at her questioningly.

"Class is over, Miss DeSousa." He said, before adding, "Enjoy your nap?"

"Yeah… sorry…" Bianca mumbled uncharacteristically, still shaken from her dream — memory — as she stood up and gathered her belongings. "I didn't get much sleep last night…"

Noticing her behavior, Perino frowned. "Did something happen at home?"

Bianca shook her head, ignoring the throbbing in her right temple, and kept her eyes downcast.

"No… I just… need more sleep, I guess… maybe I have a cold or something…" she muttered.

Before Perino could press her, Bianca made a beeline for the door. Once in the hall, she headed straight for the washroom. After making sure there was no one else around, she turned the faucet on and splashed a handful of water in her face. Gripping the sink, she took a few deep breaths before glancing up and gazing at her reflection in the mirror, taking in her tired eyes and pale complexion. She looked as if she'd aged a couple years. Shaking her head, she dried her face with her sweater and fixed her hair and makeup before exiting the washroom.

She had just reached her locker when Drew appeared, his face flushed like he'd just come from working out.

"Hey," he greeted, slightly breathless.

"Hey." Bianca replied, putting her books away.

"It's been a while since we've hung out… wanna get a bite to eat?" Drew asked.

Bianca closed her eyes, shaking her head.

"Bee… come on…" Drew begged quietly. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing." Bianca lied, closing her locker.

"Then why are you avoiding me?" Drew demanded. "Why aren't you answering my texts? I've called you a hundred times. Is it something I did?"

"No, it's…" Bianca let out an exasperated sigh, turning around and leaning against her locker. "It has nothing to do with you, Drew. Okay? It's me. It's my problem and I'll deal with it on my own."

"So there _is_ something going on." Drew said with a frown.

Bianca gave a non-committal shrug, but said nothing.

"Talk to me, Bianca… maybe there's something I can do to help…" Drew went on, his eyes pleading.

He reached over to cup the side of her face, but Bianca recoiled from his touch, avoiding contact. Drew dropped his hand, looking hurt, and Bianca had to swallow the lump in her throat as she looked away and blinked back tears.

"There's nothing you can do, Drew, so just… go away…" She said, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Bianca -" Drew started to protest, but Bianca cut him off.

"Are you deaf, Drew? I said go away!" She hissed, clenching her fists. "Leave me alone!"

Drew stared at her intently, his brow furrowed as he tried to process what she was saying.

"Are you… are you breaking up with me?" He asked disbelievingly.

Instead of answering him, Bianca plastered a cold and indifferent look on her face before turning on her heel and walking away, leaving a confused and heartbroken Drew standing at her locker. As she rounded the corner, she could feel tears pricking her eyes, and tried to convince herself that Drew would be better off without her — but even though it was true, the ache in her heart remained.

oOo

"You look like you've seen better days." Clare said as Bianca approached her.

She had gone out for a smoke to calm herself down, and once she'd regained her composure, she'd found Clare in study hall mulling over her history notes. Pulling up a chair beside the sophomore, Bianca slumped down, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes. Clare pursed her lips and gave her a sympathetic look, before pushing her books aside and touching Bianca's shoulder. Bianca tensed slightly, then relaxed and opened her eyes, sitting back.

"I broke up with Drew." She muttered. Before Clare could say anything, she elaborated. "He was being… he knew something was up and he wanted to know what, like he actually cared… but I couldn't tell him. I don't want to get him involved. It's bad enough that I dragged you into this mess…"

"Bianca… maybe he does care…" Clare said softly.

Bianca shook her head.

"No. I'm just the only girl who would date him, but now that that's all blown over…" Bianca took a deep breath and tilted her head back. "It was only a matter of time, anyway."

Clare didn't say anything, and the silence between them soon became so unbearable that Bianca broke it by changing the subject.

"So… how'd this go down?" She asked, motioning to Clare's makeup and attire.

Clare shrugged.

"Did Dr. Doom notice?" Bianca pressed.

"I'm not trying to get Eli's attention. I broke up with him, remember?" Clare said.

"Yeah… but from what you told me about the other night, you were jealous that he was hanging out with someone else." Bianca said.

"I wasn't jealous." Clare muttered.

"Liar." Bianca sneered.

"I'm not." Clare snapped at her. "I'm just… it's only been a few weeks, you know? How can he move on so fast? It took him a year to get over Julia…"

"Maybe he never loved you." Bianca said simply, inspecting her nails. She was in need of a manicure. "Or maybe he's just trying to make you jealous. I don't know." Without letting Clare give much thought to what she'd said, she sat up straight. "I'm bored. Wanna ditch?"

"I can't." Clare said, shaking her head. "I have Jesus Club after school."

Bianca snorted. "Seriously?"

Clare narrowed her eyes.

"Relax, Edwards. Don't take it personally." Bianca said, holding up her hands in defense.

"You could always come." Clare suggested.

"Yeah, that's not happening." Bianca said simply.

"Why not?" Clare asked. "You might like it."

"I _really_ doubt that."

X

**I was going to have Jesus Club in this chapter, but decided to make it the next chapter instead.**

** Anyway, hope you enjoyed!**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and let me know what you think!**


	13. Outcast

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Sorry about the wait, but thank you all for being so patient. Here's the next chapter!

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Outcast**_

X

What was she doing?

That was the only thing going through Bianca's head as she made her way down the near empty hallways and to the last place she ever thought she'd step foot in. As she neared her destination, her nerves kicked into overdrive and her heart sped up. Briefly, she considered turning around and backing out, but she'd already made her decision. Besides, she was bored and didn't want to wait around for Clare to be done.

With that in mind, she came to a stop and peered in through the window, where she saw a group of twelve or so students sitting in a circle. Clare was one of them. Taking a deep breath, Bianca slowly opened the door and stepped into the classroom, closing it as quietly as she could so as not to disturb the grade nine girl currently speaking.

Her efforts proved to be futile however, as the girl fell silent and all eyes immediately landed on her. Clare perked up, a small smile gracing her face. Bianca smiled warily at her in turn.

"Umm… can we help you?" An Asian kid in a red polo, who she was sure was in her Geography class, asked.

"Uh -" she started, only for Clare to cut in.

"It's okay, Luke. I invited her." She said, standing up to retrieve an extra chair.

Out of her peripheral and unbeknownst to Clare, Bianca saw the Asian kid, Luke, exchange disbelieving glances with the other members. Bianca adjusted the strap of her purse and walked over to the circle, taking a seat beside Clare. She could feel everyone's eyes on her and shifted awkwardly.

"So, what are we talking about?" She asked, in an attempt to break the ice.

The girl sitting beside Luke, wearing a blue polo, rolled her eyes and leaned over to whisper something to another member, who mirrored her reaction with a nod. Bianca bit her tongue, fighting back the urge to call them out. At last, the freshman girl from earlier cleared her throat and picked up where she'd left off.

"'Let marriage be held in honor among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled, for God will judge the sexual immoral and adulterous.'"

Bianca stifled a snort, but not well enough as Luke turned his sharp gaze on her.

"What's so funny?" He demanded.

Clare opened her mouth to protest, but Bianca beat her to it.

"Nothing. It's just… people have premarital sex all the time. If it was such a big deal, why hasn't God struck us all down?" She asked.

"That's what Hell is for." The girl beside Luke stated.

"What if you're in a stable, loving relationship but don't want to get married?" Bianca challenged.

"The Bible _clearly_ states that you should wait until marriage. Your virginity is a gift from God." The girl replied. "Once it's gone, you can never get it back. So why not save it to give to your husband?"

"Because I'm not a fucking _present_." Bianca snapped. "And besides… people make mistakes. We're teenagers. We're perpetually horny. How else are we supposed to relieve ourselves?"

"It's called self-control." Luke said calmly. "Not that I expect _you_ of all people to understand what that is."

"Luke!" Clare gasped.

"_Excuse_ me?" Bianca growled.

"Your name is on every stall in the boy's bathroom. Everyone knows what you and Drew Torres did in the boiler room." Luke went on.

"Luke, stop." Clare begged, trying to ease the tension in the room.

"She's a slut, Clare. A _whore_. She commits sins of the flesh." The girl beside Luke said. "She has no place in God's Kingdom."

Bianca stood up abruptly, her chair scraping across the floor.

"This was a mistake. I don't know why I even came here." She muttered, before storming out of the classroom and slamming the door behind her.

.

.

.

"Bianca, wait -" Clare called after the other girl, but Bianca was already out the door. She quickly spun on her heel, rounding on Luke and Amy. "Why would you do that?"

"She doesn't belong here, Clare. She's not like us." Luke said.

"What, so she's made a few mistakes in her life and somehow that warrants being treated like a _pariah_?" Clare snapped. "You have no idea what she's been through!"

"We know that she sells drugs. And that she stole Drew Torres from Alli Bhandari. How could you defend someone who did that to your best friend?" Luke asked.

Clare shook her head in disbelief.

"Whatever happened to loving and accepting people? Or _forgiving_ them for past sins?"

"Bianca DeSousa is bad news, Clare. People like her don't change. And if you keep hanging out with her, pretty soon you won't be wearing that ring." Amy sneered, motioning to the silver band on Clare's left hand.

Clare glared at Amy and Luke, while the other club members stayed quiet, watching the scene unfold before them with wide eyes. Finally, she ripped her purity ring off her finger and threw it onto the floor in front of them.

"I'm done." She said, before grabbing her bag and marching out of the room, her entire body trembling with anger.

oOo

She found Bianca sitting on the back steps leading into the parking lot.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly, sitting down beside her. "I should've known they would react that way. I don't know… I guess I'd hoped it would turn out better."

"It's fine." Bianca muttered, lighting a cigarette and bringing it to her lips. She exhaled slowly. "What they said was true, anyway. My name _is_ Boiler Room Bianca for a reason. I'm the school skank and everyone knows it."

"That's not true." Clare said.

"Oh, yeah? And what do _you_ know?" Bianca snapped, throwing a venomous look at the younger girl. "We've known each other for a _week_. You know _nothing_ about me _or_ what I've been through. I'm just some fucking _charity case_ to you."

"No -!" Clare started, only for her protest to fall short as Bianca stood up and tossed her cigarette aside.

Stuffing her hands into her leather jacket, Bianca started to walk away, only for Clare to catch up with her and grab her arm, bringing her to a halt. She sighed irritably, shrugging out of Clare's hold before whipping around and slamming her against the chain link fence. Clare gasped in pain, but held Bianca's gaze as the older girl glared down at her, gripping her shoulders so tightly that her nails were starting to bite into her skin through her shirt.

"I could beat the shit out of you, you know." Bianca hissed.

"But you won't." Clare said with wince.

Bianca continued to glare at her before shoving her back and stepping away.

"You're not even worth it." She muttered, falling back against the fence beside Clare and sliding to the ground with her knees drawn to her chest.

"Bianca…" Clare whispered, lowering herself to the ground next to her.

Bianca shook her head, fighting back tears.

Clare sighed, bringing her own knees to her chest.

They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, before Clare finally spoke up.

"My sister was raped."

Bianca lifted her head, turning her bloodshot gaze on Clare.

"What?"

"Darcy. I don't think you would've ever met her… she was a few years older." Clare said quietly, keeping her eyes on her shoes. "She went to a party with her friends one night… and some guy slipped a roofie into her drink when she wasn't looking. Then he raped her. She didn't remember what happened the next morning, but… once she did remember… she fell apart. Started acting out… that sort of thing. And then… then she tried to kill herself."

She could feel herself getting choked up, but forced herself to continue.

"I still have nightmares seeing her in the hospital bed… with those bandages around her wrists and just this… vacant look in her eyes. Her faith meant everything to her. She was waiting until marriage… saving herself… and then some monster came along and took that from her. He violated her. And she blamed herself… hated herself so much after that that she tried to kill herself."

She spared a brief glance at Bianca, who was listening closely.

"She got help, but she was never the same after that. It was like she was broken. Last year, she went to Kenya to try to find herself again. After that, my parents started fighting. She used to e-mail once a week… but now I'm lucky enough to get an e-mail on my birthday. Sometimes I wonder if… if she hadn't been raped… if she'd still be here… and if my family would still be together."

"I'm sorry…" Bianca murmured quietly.

Clare shook her head.

"What happened to you was horrible. No one deserves to be raped. And you're right… I don't know what it's like. But I can imagine how you're feeling. The shame… the disgust… but don't ever think that you deserved it." She said.

"I _did_ deserve it, though. After all the terrible stuff I've done…"

"It wasn't your fault, Bianca." Clare told her firmly. "The guy that did this to you… he's the one to blame. You didn't do anything wrong."

Bianca wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and leaned over, resting against Clare.

"I just feel… like I could've done something to stop it. Fought back harder… taken a cab… _something_."

Clare sighed, draping a comforting arm over Bianca's shoulders.

"It's not your fault. None of this is your fault, and you didn't deserve it." She repeated quietly while Bianca curled into her.

oOo

It was dinner by the time Clare and Bianca got home. The smell of chicken and mixed vegetables wafted through the air, making their stomachs growl. A deep, throaty laugh emitted from the kitchen, and at once Clare realized that her mother wasn't alone. Glen was over again, and that meant that Jake was there too. She took a deep breath before heading into the kitchen, Bianca following closely behind.

Sure enough, Jake was present, leaning against the island while her mother hovered over the stove. Glen stood next to her, flashing her a charming smile that made her mother giggle like a schoolgirl. Clare rolled her eyes.

"Mom." She called out, drawing everyone's attention to the two girls standing in the threshold.

"Oh, Clare! How was Jesus Club?" Her mother asked.

"Alright." Clare lied quickly, before motioning to Bianca. "I invited Bianca over for dinner. I hope that's not a problem."

"Of course not." Glen said with a grin, before her mother could protest. "The more, the merrier."

Clare nodded stiffly, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"Right." She said, before glancing at Bianca. "We'll just be in my room."

"Okay, sweetie." Her mother replied, while Clare and Bianca made their way up the stairs and to her bedroom.

Once inside, Clare closed the door and collapsed on her bed.

"Unbelievable." She muttered. "It hasn't even been a month since her and my dad divorced, and she's already with someone else."

She sighed deeply before sitting up.

"Let's do something." She said. "Tonight."

Bianca quirked a brow.

"Like what?" She asked slowly.

"Something _not_ illegal." Clare teased.

A playful smirk tugged at Bianca's lips and she flopped down next to Clare.

"Up for a bit of clubbing?"

X

**So… I hope this makes up for the last chapter. **

** Please ****REVIEW**** and let me know what you think!**


	14. Ghost

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: … enjoy!

X

**And I Must Scream****  
><strong>_**Ghost**_

X

"How do I look?"

Bianca finished pulling on her jeans and zipping them up before glancing over her shoulder to look at Clare. The younger girl stood in front of her full-length mirror, her hair straighter and wearing a jean jacket over a floral print dress. Bianca made a face. It might have worked if she was going out on a _date_ or at school (before the uniforms, of course) but her attire wasn't exactly appropriate for _clubbing_. Not caring if she was only in a bra and jeans, Bianca made her way over to her suitcase and started to dig around in search for something Clare could wear. She finally managed to find a black one-shoulder top and a dark pink skirt, and tossed them over to Clare.

"Wear that." She said.

"But what about this?" Clare asked, motioning to what she was currently wearing.

"Fake only get you so far. You have to _look_ the part." Bianca said simply. "Right now you look like a nun and no bouncer is going to believe you're nineteen."

Clare sighed, and reluctantly did as she was told, stripping out of her dress and replacing it with the clothes Bianca had given her. The top was fine — it covered her chest and that was all she had been concerned about — but the skirt was high-waisted and exposed a lot more thigh than she was used to. She bit her lip before walking over to her dresser to retrieve a pair of black tights. After getting them on, she grabbed her black kitten heels and slipped them on as well before returning to the mirror to examine her appearance.

"Here." Bianca called over to her from across the room, throwing her a studded belt.

Clare slid the belt around her waist before getting started on her makeup.

Meanwhile, Bianca threw on a navy top that fell off her shoulders slightly, and sat on the edge of Clare's bed to slip on her heels. After adding some jewellery to the mix, Bianca stood up and walked over to the mirror, where Clare was just finishing up. She helped the younger girl dramatize her eyes a bit, making them look brighter and more captivating, before getting started on her own.

Once they were finished getting ready, they grabbed their jackets and purses, and snuck out of the house.

.

.

.

They took the subway downtown and walked the rest of the way. Fortunately it wasn't a particularly long journey and before they knew it, they were already there. The club was packed by the time they arrived and Clare could hear the music coming from inside. The two girls stood in line for about fifteen minutes with Bianca tapping her foot impatiently and Clare observing her unfamiliar surroundings while trying to calm her nerves.

"What if we get caught?" She whispered frantically.

"We _won't_." Bianca assured her. "At least not if you don't give us away. Just _relax_ and act natural."

Clare nodded, taking a deep breath.

At last, the line moved. As they neared closer and closer to he entrance, Bianca turned to face her.

"Remember what I told you — act like you're nineteen." She said.

"O-okay." Clare murmured, following her lead.

Bianca strut on in without a care in the world, like she belonged there. Her expression was calm and collected as she casually showed the bouncer her fake I.D. The bouncer spared it a glance before nodding and letting her pass. Clare scrambled to retrieve her own fake I.D before handing it to him. Her heart pounded rapidly against her chest as she waited for his response. Could he tell? What if she got caught? What would her _mother_ say? Panic coursed through her veins as all sorts of horrible scenarios bombarded her mind, but just as she was about to take off running, the bouncer handed her I.D back and let her in.

It wasn't until she found Bianca that she let go of the breath she'd been holding.

Bianca chuckled.

"Chill. That was the hard part." She teased, nudging Clare playfully.

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick." Clare murmured.

Bianca rolled her eyes.

"Come on." She said, looping her arm through Clare's and leading her over to the bar. "Hey! I'll have one tequila shot and… what do you want?" She asked Clare.

"I-I don't know." Clare stammered.

Her knowledge of alcoholic beverages was limited to champagne at weddings and whatever she'd had at the Ravine.

"Here." Bianca's voice snapped Clare out of her reverie, and she looked to see the older girl handing her a glass of… something.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Rum and cranberry juice. Try it." Bianca urged.

Clare scrunched up her nose.

"I said I was never going to drink again…" She murmured.

"One drink isn't going to make you feel like shit. It'll be out of your system by tomorrow morning." Bianca said. "Besides, it'll loosen you up."

Clare sighed and nodded, and while Bianca did a tequila shot, Clare brought the glass to her lips and drank. It wasn't as bad as she had anticipated, but it did leave something of a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. Once she was done, she placed her glass aside and watched Bianca do another shot.

"Alright… alright…" Bianca said, setting the shot glass down as soon as she was done.

She turned to Clare, who looked at her curiously, and grinned.

"And now… we have fun." She declared with a grin, taking Clare by the wrists and leading her onto the crowded dance floor.

"Uhh, Bianca… I'm not really the dancing type -" Clare started to protest, but Bianca cut her off.

"Just do what I do." The older girl told her as she began to move her body to the beat of the music.

Clare tried desperately to mimic her, but it was almost impossible. The only kind of dancing she'd ever done was slow dancing with KC and making a fool out of herself with Alli. Bianca was a _dancer_ in every sense of the word. She was a natural. Every twirl, every jerk, every tilt and every thrust was timed perfectly. Clare couldn't help but envy Bianca a little, wishing she could be just as mesmerizing and alluring as her.

Bianca seemed to notice her struggling to keep up, and rolled her eyes before placing her hands on Clare's hips. Clare furrowed her brow and looked at her in confusion, but Bianca ignored her and instead, moved Clare along with her. Eventually she managed to fall into a rhythm with Bianca, able to match her. Once she had the hang of it, Bianca let go momentarily and spun on her heel, dropping to her knees only to slither back up.

Whirling around, strands of her wild hair clung to her flushed face and she smirked at Clare, who smiled in return. The alcohol was finally kicking in and she was feeling a lot more relaxed. If she looked like an idiot to everyone else on the dance floor, she didn't care, and Bianca didn't seem to either.

A _click_ drew Clare out of her stupor. Bianca smirked, holding up her phone before standing beside her and holding it in front of them.

"Smile for the camera, Edwards." She said, before snapping another photo.

This time, Clare was prepared.

After taking a few more pictures, first with Bianca's phone and then with Clare's, they put their phones away.

"Having fun?" Bianca asked, manoeuvring so that she was standing behind Clare, her hands back on her hips.

"Yeah." Clare replied, wiping her forehead.

The music changed, and the two started to dance once more. Clare watched the bodies around them meld together, the smell of sweat and booze wafting through the air. As Bianca's hips swayed rhythmically, Clare's followed suit. She pressed her back up against Bianca's chest, losing herself in the hypnotic beat that echoed off the walls. Bianca's hands slid from her hips to around her waist and back down, her manicured nails grazing the skin of her thighs. Clare's eyes drooped shut and she tilted her head back so that it was resting against Bianca's shoulder. The older girl's hot breath fanned over her ear and suddenly she was being whirled around. Their eyes locked and Bianca pulled her closer, their hips grinding together and causing Clare's whole body to tingle with anticipation.

Bianca's dark gaze flickered to her plump lips and Clare instinctively licked them, her heart speeding up. Leaning in, their lips were just about to touch when Bianca happened to glance over Clare's shoulder — and promptly froze.

There, standing on the other side of the room, was the man who raped her.

"Oh my God." She breathed, shoving Clare back and shattering the spell that had momentarily fallen on them.

"Bianca, what -" Clare started.

"It's him!" Bianca hissed, the color having completely drained from her face.

"Who?" Clare asked.

Bianca stared at her fearfully, terrified to look back in case _he_ was looking.

"_Him_." She stressed.

Realization dawned on Clare and she slowly peered over her shoulder to see a blond man with scraggly hair and grungy looking clothes scouting the girls in the room. She glanced back at Bianca, who looked like she had just seen a ghost. Her face was alarmingly pale and she looked like she was going to be sick.

"We need to go. _Now_." Bianca said, before grabbing Clare's wrist tightly and dragging her out of the club.

Once they were outside, Bianca disappeared into the nearest alley. As Clare followed closely behind, she could hear retching sounds emitting from behind a dumpster. She stood off to the side, giving Bianca some space. When the noises finally stopped Clare took a cautious step forward and peered around the dumpster to see Bianca sitting on the pavement with her knees drawn to her chest and her face hidden between them.

"Bianca…" She whispered, giving her friend a sympathetic look as she knelt down in front of her.

"It's not fair…" Bianca sobbed quietly, lifting her head.

Her eyes were bloodshot.

"He's everywhere. Every time I close my eyes, all I think about is _him_ and what he did to me. And now this! I can't escape him, Clare!" She choked out. "This is such shit!"

"Oh, Bianca…" Clare murmured, leaning over and wrapping her arms around the older girl.

Bianca buried her face in the crook of Clare's neck, clinging to her desperately, her nails biting into Clare's back through her shirt. Clare ignored the pain however, stroking Bianca's hair gently as Bianca continued to cry.

Her sobs eventually dissolved into whimpers. Pulling back, Clare let Bianca recompose herself, wiping at her tear-streaked face and combing her fingers through her hair. Pursing her lips together, Clare slowly rose to her feet and offered Bianca a hand, which the older girl took, hoisting her up.

"Let's go home." Clare murmured, lacing her fingers through Bianca's and leading her out of the alley.

.

.

.

"And just _where_ have you been?"

_Shit_.

Clare sighed, closing the door behind them as she helped Bianca through the foyer and into the house.

Her mother stood a few feet away, having clearly been waiting for her, and looked anything but happy.

"I'll be up in a minute." She told Bianca, who nodded weakly and headed upstairs.

Once she was out of earshot, Clare turned to face her mother, who had her arms folded across her chest and was waiting expectantly for an answer.

"We went out." She said simply.

"You went out." Helen repeated dryly. "In _that_? On a _school night_?"

"To be honest, I didn't think you'd notice." Clare retorted coolly, narrowing her eyes. "I mean, you've been so busy hanging out with Glen it was like I didn't even exist!"

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady! I am your _mother_!" Helen snapped.

Clare rolled her eyes.

Helen's jaw tightened.

"Just _what_ has gotten into you lately?" She asked. "Is it that girl? It is, isn't it? She's obviously a bad influence on you."

Clare shot her a disbelieving look.

"No offence, Mom, but… you have no idea what you're talking about. In the last couple of weeks while you've been busy with Glen, Bianca's been the _only_ one there for me. And she's going through a lot right now, so I'm not going to abandon her when she needs me most." He mind drifted back to Eli, and she could feel the guilt inside her bubbling to the surface as she added quietly, "Not again."

Helen eyed her daughter disapprovingly.

"We'll talk about this another time, when you're not so belligerent." She said. "Now go to bed. And _stay_ there. And if I find out you've snuck out again…"

Clare tuned her out, nodding along until she finished, before turning around and heading up to her room, locking the door behind her just in case her mother decided to burst in.

Bianca was laying on her bed, curled up into a ball and staring into space.

Dropping her purse and kicking off her heels, Clare made her way over and climbed in beside her. Bianca rolled over to face her, looking exhausted and worn out.

"Have you ever wanted to just… die?" She murmured.

"Don't say things like that." Clare said softly.

"Why not?" Bianca demanded. "I mean, who the fuck would give a shit if I disappeared? _No one_. At least your sister had people who cared about her. Me? I've got nothing."

"That's not true." Clare insisted. "You have _me_."

"Yeah. Whatever." Bianca muttered.

Clare sighed, combing her fingers through her hair.

"I'm not going anywhere." She said. "You can try to push me away all you want, but I won't budge."

A small smile graced Bianca's lips.

"You would if I punched you in the face."

"Putting me in the hospital doesn't count."

Clare made herself more comfortable, scooting closer to Bianca.

"At the club…" she said after a moment's silence, "Before you saw… _him_… were you going to kiss me?"

Bianca stared blankly at her.

"I don't like girls."

"I didn't say you did."

Bianca let out a defeated sigh.

"Maybe."

Clare nodded slowly, laying her head on her pillow as she absorbed the confession. Bianca managed a small smirk, and wrapped her arms around Clare, hugging he close.

It wasn't long before they drifted off to sleep.

X

**And that's the end of that chapter.**

** Hope you enjoyed!**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and let me know what you think!**


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